Bruised
by fantasyfun0311
Summary: She was a battered woman. He was demon. Dean's got nothing left, and despite how hard he fought the urge, being a demon was just too fun. That is, until little Rosalie Martin ended up on his doorstep. (AU) (Sexy) (Fluffy) (Trigger Warning: mentions of abuse)
1. Chapter 1

Don't own Supernatural, but I wish I did!

PART 1

It was so dark out.

I couldn't see very well either.

I blinked, hard, trying to clear the haze out of my vision. It wasn't until I wiped my hands over my eyes that I realized the haze was blood and not the lack of light making it hard to see.

 _Blood._

I'm bloody.

 _I'm bleeding..._

I surveyed my surroundings the best I could, shivering from the cold. I could see my own breath clinging to the air in front of my face as I tried once more to remember anything other than my boyfriend's face as he squeezed his hands around my throat.

Where was I?

I could only hear out of one of my ears, and from the sounds I was hearing I had to be in the middle of nowhere.

The thought terrified me.

The shivering brought my thoughts back down to earth, and I realized then that I was missing more than just my ride home. My engagement ring was lying on the ground about a foot away from me, clinging forlornly in the bright moonlight. The white dress I was wearing fell off of one shoulder as I tentatively reached for the ring. I saw that more than one of my freshly manicured nails were broken and jagged, a testament to how hard I'd fought off my attacker.

I felt my lower lip tremble as I palmed the ring, turning it over and over in front of me like it could stop time and reverse it.

There was only one logical reason he'd have left me out here like this; to die. The temperature was near frigid, past freezing, and if the way my lanky knees were knocking together was any indication, I was close to frozen solid.

I decided then and there that if I was going to brave my way through the wilderness it was time to do it. I had to get my blood pumping, I needed some type of warmth if I was going to stave off hypothermia.

Slowly, I grabbed onto a tree branch that was hanging dangerously close to my face, and tried to stand.

I cried out instantly at the sharp pain in my side, clutching it briefly only to pull my hand away bloody. I started to cry then, tugging on that fucking branch like a life line until I was standing upright. I bent at the waist slightly to ease the ache in my side, but it only hurt worse when I took my first step forward.

That's when I realized I was missing one of my shoes. Kicking off the other one, I treaded slowly through the snow covered ground. There wasn't a lot of snow yet; it wasn't late enough in the season for real snow. My long auburn hair hung well past my waist in a riot of curls; I could feel leaves scratching against the exposed skin of my back. The leaves brought back the memory of Chris's calloused hands bruising my tender skin, and I shuddered.

 _What if he's still here?_

My blue eyes fell to my surroundings then as I limped onward, with nothing but the sound of the snow crunching softly beneath my feet to accompany me. There was nothing; at least, it seemed as if the dense forestry around me stretched for miles and miles.

 _I'm afraid of the dark._

I was afraid of the dark; always had been.

The darkness that surrounded me, illuminated only by the brief and fleeting moonlight, scared the hell out of me.

As I trekked forward, without any destination in mind, I wondered what Chris was doing. If he thought I was dead; obviously, when he'd beaten me to a bloody pulp, he had that ending in his own mind.

 _Not like this is the first time he's ever laid his hands on me._

Flashes of our past fights crashed into my head and I shook it to try and clear them from behind my eyes; now was not the time. What I needed to do now, was find shelter from the cold for the night, and hope like hell someone would find me before I bled to death.

Between stumbling over tree roots and my own two feet, I numbed myself internally against the emotionally crippling pain I was feeling.

 _Mama always told me to watch the quiet ones._

Mama had been fucking right.

South Dakota was beautiful this time of year, and I knew I was still in my homeland; I could smell it.

Over the river and through the woods...

As I took a careful step down onto a rock, my foot caught on a root in the ground and

I pitched forward, landing face first into small ravine that was as cold as Chris's heart.

I sucked in a breath at the unexpected cold and knew then and there that my timeline had just decreased by hours.

Shivering, teeth chattering so hard they I could have danced to the sound, I limped in the direction I'd been heading. My dress felt like it weighed five hundred pounds, and my feet felt like bricks were tied to the heels. Every step felt like it took me three hours, but in reality, only seconds passed me by.

The dense forestry eventually opened up into a small clearing, and the small clearing housed a quaint cabin.

 _This is where I would have loved to settle down._

What excited me though, was the small stack of smoke leaking from the top of the chimney, signaling the presence of another human.

With a newfound rush of adrenaline, I tripped onto the sprawling back porch and crawled towards the grainy door in front of me. So close, so close.

I slammed one fist against the door.

One, two, three.

I palmed the cold, hard wood beneath me as I fell face first onto the very porch I hoped would lead to my safety.

My fist moved in time with my slowing heart rate...

 _One, two, three._

 _One...two...three..._

 _One...two..._

 _Three..._

The door opened, and scuffed work boots met my bleary gaze. I could barely keep my eyes open at this point, but the heady scent of cinnamon met my nose. I took a deep breath, tried to fight off the overwhelming urge to _sleep,_ and blinked up at the man who hurriedly took me into his arms. When my eyes met his, there was something off about him. The overbearing black in his eyes registered in my mind before I fell asleep completely, but what really caught my eye was how devastatingly handsome he was.

 _Beautiful.._

"I got ya, baby. You're gonna be alright," I heard a gruff voice whisper into my ear.

In the circle of this strangers strong arms, I felt safer than I had in a very, very, long time.

My mistake.

* * *

I opened my eyes slowly; if I did it any faster, the room would continue to spin, and I knew that I would be sick. The nausea crawling up the back of my throat was like nothing I'd ever felt before. I literally felt like I was dying, but the sounds funneling in through the only ear that worked, my right one, told me I was very much alive.

I heard birds chirping, and the steady sound of a _thunk, thunk, thwack!_

Sucking in a deep breath to keep myself from screaming, I slowly clawed at the blankets to assist myself in sitting up. Once I was facing the direction I needed to be, forwards, I took a look around the cabin I was now occupying. My long hair felt sticky and gritty as my fingers wove through it, tugging it around myself like a blanket. Shakily I stood, my bruised knees still knocking together. I moved towards the _thunking_ sound quietly. Slowly, my feet began to work they way they were supposed to, and I made my way towards a large bay window.

The land around me was still green, beautiful, enchanting; this little cabin is what all the princess movies were made of. Rolling hills and giant trees flocked with birds singing and chirping. The sun was high in the sky, telling me it was early afternoon. Beyond the rolling hills I could just barely make out the ravine I'd mistakenly fallen into, and it was crashing into the shore line rhythmically. Gently, I raised one shaking hand to the cool paned glass window and pressed my palm against the hard surface.

Memories; they're a beautiful, painful, _fucked up_ mess aren't they?

For instance, I could see Chris's face the first time he ever told me he loved me. So earnest, so sweet, so utterly _false._ That memory was linked to another one, a darker one; the first time he hit me.

It was Valentine's Day three years ago.

I'd accidentally spilled red wine on the carpet.

Needless to say, he hadn't been too happy.

The memories from yesterday, at least I think it was yesterday, were still fuzzy...

Yet they slowly faded as my eyes discovered where the steady _thunk_ was coming from.

A man, shirtless and sweaty, was chopping wood and tossing it into a growing pile behind him.

I watched him run a hand through his disheveled hair, and his muscles glistened under the streaming sunlight, drawing my attention to the perfect body he had. Tucked into tight dark denim jeans, his muscular thighs were straining against the thin material. I swallowed audibly, trying not to stare, but it occurred to me that I could have gotten stuck in a remote cabin with a worse looking specimen of man...

 _No!_

 _Men are pigs, sweetheart._

 _Remember that._

I dropped my hand from the glass, stepping back into the shadows, hoping like hell I was well enough to make my way back to town. Something about that man outside, the one that had lifted me into his arms so gently last night...well, I knew I would fall for him.

I couldn't risk it.

Taking one look around the perfect, storybook cabin, I headed for the only door I could find; the one that would lead me right to _him._

I took a deep breath, ignoring the throb of my entire body, and turned the knob. The door opened soundlessly, and the sight of my own blood staining the sun-bleached wood made me blanch. I pressed a palm to my lips in an effort to keep the cries from escaping.

 _Not here, not now._

I stepped out into the sunlight and blinked furiously at the invading light. My toes were slowly warming against the wood, the first real thing I'd felt in a long time. My blue eyes found the man who'd been busy chopping wood a moment ago, but now?

Now he was staring right at me, his nostrils flaring in a way that made me take a step back.

"Hi," I breathed shakily.

I tried not to be frightened of the man who was easily a foot taller than me and almost as wide, but he was definitely a force to be reckoned with. He rose to his full height and took his foot from the stump he was leaning on. He tossed the axe into the ground beside him with expert precision and started walking towards me.

As he neared, I tried to step back, but the door had closed behind me and I found myself pressed against it. When he was at the edge of the stairs he stopped walking, and I realized then that his eyes were a gorgeous shade of jade green.

 _Not black._

 _They aren't black, Rosalie._

"How ya feelin', baby? Better today?," He asked me.

I internally warmed at the way he called me _baby_ , like I was special; like I was his.

"I- My name is Rosalie. Rosalie Martin. What's your name?," I murmured.

He was so perfectly sculpted, from his jawline to his lush lips, that I was having a hard time concentrating.

"What if I don't wanna tell ya my name... _Rosalie?"_

The way he said my name, like it was something sexy, sent shivers down my spine.

"Perhaps I should be leaving," I said quickly. I understood then, by the steely look in his eyes, that I was completely at his mercy. I had barely enough strength left in me to scream for help, which no one would hear, let alone fight off yet another attacker in the span of forty-eight hours.

Obviously sensing my unease he held his hands up in front of him.

"Dean. My name is Dean Winchester. I ain't gonna lay a hand on ya unless ya ask me to, baby. Relax."

There it was again- _baby._

Some women would hate that pet name associated with them.

Some women would cringe.

Me?

Well, being that my previous pet names consisted of _bitch, whore, cunt,_ and a myriad of other not-so-sweet things...I practically melted.

"Thank you for taking me into your home, Dean. I would have died of hypothermia had had you not answered your door," I said softly.

His head canted to the side, and for the barest of seconds his eyes were that same lifeless black from last night.

Within a blink they were green again.

He gestured to my side, which was still aching something fierce.

"That stab wound was killin' ya first. What happened to ya last night?"

I felt my eyes well up with tears as I opened my mouth to tell him the truth; that my fiance had finally done what mama always warned me about.

Yet no sound came out of my mouth.

I didn't _want_ Dean to know how weak I was. For some reason, I didn't want this strong, gorgeous man to know just how weak I'd become. The idea of him knowing just how sad and pathetic I really was, had me wincing.

"I fell."

His eyebrows hit his hairline and he chuckled.

"Onto a knife? Come on sweetheart, who stabbed you?"

His tone held no room for argument, something I was all too familiar with.

"It was an accident," I said firmly. He watched me silently for a moment.

"Fine. Tell me when you're ready. How are ya feelin'? Are you hungry?," He asked, taking a step forward.

I stepped back so quickly my back hit the door behind me, hard, and I hissed at the pain it caused. He tsked under his breath and gently pried me away from the door, shaking his head in annoyance.

"I told ya I wouldn't hurt ya; let me see," He said softly.

Before I could push him away, which I still wasn't sure I wanted to do, Dean had my dress yanked up around my waist as he probed at what looked like a freshly cleaned wound. I wanted to pull away from him, I wanted to tell him not to look at my body, that all the bruises and cuts were hideous and he should look away.

Instead, like the coward I was, I froze.

"I tended to this last night, it didn't look _too_ bad. Whoever stabbed ya wanted you to suffer, wanted ya to bleed out slowly," Dean commented.

I closed my eyes as his fingers ghosted across my skin. Slowly, gently, _sweetly;_ which was an obvious direct contrast to the man doing the touching at the moment.

"You didn't answer my question. Are you hungry, baby?"

His gruff voice held me stationery as I slowly met his gaze.

At that moment, with his hands on my body in broad daylight, with his mouth so close and his eyes so earnest...I wanted to kiss him.

"Ye-yes," I stuttered.

His green eyes held the promise of more, of something unmistakeable; but I ignored it.

"Let's get ya fed, then."


	2. Chapter 2

Dean had a predatory gleam in his eyes at times. For instance, when he slid a plate with a steaming grilled cheese adorning it's shiny porcelain face towards me. Although, and this may sound _crazy_ , his expression wasn't one that made me feel wary. It wasn't dangerous, no; it felt more...protective. Like he was going to make damn sure I ate, and that I was absolutely satisfied.

While I ate said sandwich, he did nothing but hover near the perimeter of the kitchen, constantly watching me and glancing out the window near his shoulder.

Now, I sat silently and he watched me closer than ever.

"Dean, you're making me nervous," I managed to choke out when I caught those green eyes traveling the length of my body for what had to be the tenth time in a matter of fifteen minutes.

For a second I thought he would smirk at me, it seemed like he wanted to, but instead he turned away from me and began making himself busy with the dishes in the sink.

"How old are you Rosalie?," Dean tossed over his shoulder. I frowned.

"Twenty-two."

He nodded and I could have died from the blush that swept over my face.

 _Oh my God._

 _He hasn't been checking me out!_

 _He's obviously a lot older than me, he probably sees me as just a kid!_

"Do...do you think I could shower?," I heard myself whisper.

 _Don't be meek._

 _Speak up!_

His shoulders tensed almost imperceptibly and he nodded his dark head.

"Sure, baby. Fresh towels are in the closet next to the bathroom."

I told myself to ignore the warmth I felt when he spoke to me like that, like I was special, because I knew that a man like him would never be interested in a _girl_ like me.

Even if I'd lived through enough to classify me as far more than a woman, Dean didn't know that.

He didn't know that I'd been to the hospital more times than I could count on both hands in the last six months. He had no idea that losing my virginity wasn't my idea and he had no idea that the man that I'd pledged my life to _forever_ had left me for dead in his backyard nary twenty-four hours ago.

"Thanks," I said softly as I passed towards the bathroom.

The cold tiles looked inviting and I thought to myself that maybe now I could have my alone time. The time when I would let the tears take me, as they threatened to do twenty times today already. As I needed them to do.

Inside the bathroom the light was dim but it worked. I had no reason to shave, as I'd just done it yesterday for my engagement photos. That's where Chris had said we were going anyways.

 _Liar, liar, liar._

 _Weak, I'm weak._

 _I'm fucking pathetic._

The tears came easy as I stepped into the scalding water. Under the downpour I let my pain seep from between my lips as my shoulders shook violently. With every drop of pink-tinged water that fell from my tortured body my pain grew. Like a brewing storm my emotions roiled until I was bent over, palms flat against the wall, my mouth open in despair.

 _Weak, alone, small._

 _It's all my fault._

I sucked in as much air as my lungs would allow. Which wasn't much, considering the fact that all my nerve endings were practically singed at the rate they were firing off the hurt. It radiated through me faster than I could mentally counter it, and finally, after a few minutes of nothing but sobbing and dry heaving...it calmed.

 _I_ calmed.

What could I do now?

I was free.

 _Free._

 _Rosalie, you're fucking free._

The thought was sobering, rejuvenating.

As I scrubbed my body clean I reminded myself that Dean wouldn't hurt me. He'd been nothing but gentle with me from the get, and I believed him when he said he wouldn't lay a hand on me.

All throughout lunch he'd tried to loosen my lips, but I wouldn't tell him what happened. Honestly, I couldn't decide if I was more afraid of the truth or what it meant; I could start over completely.

 _Did I want to?_

 _That's the question, isn't it?_

Sliding the curtain aside I stepped out of the shower and swiped my hand across the foggy mirror. My reflection didn't look different but I had a feeling I was changing slowly from the inside out.

With a towel wrapped around my narrow frame I opened the door only to nearly jump out of my skin when I almost ran smack dab into Dean's solid chest. I pressed my palms against the hard muscles there, stepping back a pace.

"Dean! What-what are you doing," I asked carefully. Again, like an animal learning a new command, he canted his head to the side.

"You were crying."

I dropped my chin to my chest in embarrassment, but he nudged my chin up.

"Tell me why you were crying."

I bristled at the demand and slapped his hand away.

"Don't tell me what to do."

His nostrils flared again and I sighed, taking a step forward. My false bravado faded and I took his hand that I'd just smacked into both of mine.

"I'm sorry, Dean. I didn't mean that," I said gently pressing his knuckles to my mouth. Closing my eyes, I took a second to calm the emotions that were slowly clawing at my insides and threatening to suffocate me.

So soft it was almost a whisper of skin, his knuckles traced the line of my cheek.

"Think nothin' of it, baby," He said.

I felt my lower lip quiver at his kindness so I pulled away and gestured at my naked form wearing the threadbare towel I'd chosen from the linen closet.

"Ya got anything I could wear?," I asked.

His green eyes were frozen on a part of my anatomy that surprised me. Following his intense gaze I saw that he was staring at my neck; which, now clean, was marred by visible bruises in the shape of hand prints.

I winced and tried to turn away, but Dean caught me in his tight grip. I gasped, trying to pull his hand from around my bicep.

"A man did this to ya. Stabbed ya."

His tone left nothing to the imagination, so I knew he was pissed.

"Dean-I-it's _complicated!_ ," I cried.

He scoffed.

He let go of me and shook his head.

"Why didn't ya tell me sooner? I coulda tracked the bastard!," He yelled. I sucked my lower lip into my mouth and wanted to smack myself when tears filled my eyes.

"Why do you care? It's my problem, I'll deal with Chris-"

"Are you fuckin' joking? A man lays his hands on ya, a _little girl_ , damn it! And you don't think that's my problem? You're in my cabin baby, you're most definitely my problem now," Dean said angrily. His green eyes were trained on me so heartedly I took a step back.

He froze, his hand stretched out in the space between us as if he realized he was frightening me.

And then, he turned on his heels, and left.

I wasn't sure if I should focus on the fact that now my only ally was gone, or that fact that even though he'd kind of insinuated I was a problem, he'd referred to me as _his._

(Dean POV)

She was a little thing. Sweet and doe-eyed like every creature I'd wanted to waste over the past six months. When she'd shown up on my doorstep, all bloody and tiny, I wasn't sure if I should even touch her. Despite who I was in my previous life, despite how good I tried to be, I was a demon now.

 _A fuckin' good one too._

The thought brought a smirk to my lonely lips.

That sweet little morsel had no idea who she'd gotten tangled up with, and that was the problem- Crowley had been nagging me for _months_ to choose a side...and all of a sudden the only side I wanted to choose was Rosalie's.

 _Ya barely even know the broad._

I didn't need to; I didn't need to know anything about her other than the fact that she looked at me like I was her _savior._ And wasn't that just the irony I was looking for? Me? Anyone's savior? Crowley would kindly remind me I couldn't even save myself, and with Sam tailing me my time with her alone would be limited.

The thought had me snarling under my breath.

I wasn't going to just let Rosalie leave, of course.

I couldn't very well _hurt_ her either.

Her big blue eyes held me captive every time she glanced at me, her soft body had me the moment I touched her. The problem? While it was like muscle memory to feel the things I was starting to feel, it didn't quite mix well with me anymore. Like oil and water.

One second I wanted to fuck her senseless, kick her out of my cabin, and then...she would look at me, or touch me, and fuck me but I was at a loss.

Then, with her sweet body glistening with fresh droplets of water I wanted nothing more than to lick off of her, I saw those bruises and I knew.

Someone had hurt my sweet Rosalie, and I wanted nothing more than to _slay_ for her. That same old urge to kill, to maim, to _slaughter everything_ came back full force and I knew without a shadow of a doubt, that I was going to kill the man that dared to lay a hand on her.

He was mine to find, mine to torture, and mine to kill.

Finding him would be easy enough, and judging by the way Rosalie was in no hurry to get back to him, he'd hurt her before.

The thought only further justified my unyielding urge to rip him limb from limb...

The forest was quiet, almost as forlorn as I seemed to be tonight. I'd left little Rosie in a huff, worried that I'd lash out and hurt her in my attempts to stifle the burning rage I was feeling.

 _How could I tell her?_

How could I explain to her that I was a demon; that I knew things I shouldn't, that I knew intimate details of her life just because I'd asked a few question? Hell was a pool of information and it was handy if nothing else. Sure, Crowley wasn't exactly on my list of allies at the moment but that didn't mean that I didn't have his long list of followers at my disposal.

Rosalie was human, innocent; her purity literally made me _crave_ her in a way that was disastrous.

Unfortunately for me and for her, her presence made the small dormant parts of me that still retained even the smallest bit of my humanity come out of the woodwork. I couldn't afford to have her as a distraction. Yet, here I trudged, tracking he'd attacker like it was my life's mission.

 _We can have her._

 _Let us take her._

 _Even Persephone suited Hades._

While that may be, Rosalie wasn't a mythological goddess and I wasn't the king of hell...


	3. Chapter 3

I waited for Dean to return for hours. It was late into the night by the time I heard the familiar clomp of his boots on the wooden porch. They paused outside the front door, and I could almost feel his hesitation on the opposite side of the barrier between us.

I'd thought about him _all day._

Try as I might, I couldn't seem to stop, and it made me feel like a silly little girl to be honest. Here he was, obviously a man of solitude, and I wanted nothing more than to please him. I wanted to learn about him, learn _with_ him, and hopefully open up in a way I hadn't been allowed to before.

Then there was the part of me that absolutely sure I wanted nothing to do with him. The part of me that tried to convince the rest of me I should go home and tell my family I'm alive. The part of me that wanted to feed Chris justice and make him pay for trying to _kill_ me.

While the two sides warred inside of me, I pressed my palms to the door and took a deep shuddering breath.

"Dean?," I whispered.

I wasn't sure if he could hear me; I wasn't sure I _wanted_ him to hear me. What I was sure of, was the fact that I needed basic human comfort in the purest form.

"Step away from the door, baby. Let me in," He said softly through the splitting wood. Carefully, I stepped away, wary of my side which was throbbing unpleasantly. As soon as I was a pace away from the door, it opened slowly and Dean stepped inside the small cabin. His form seemed even larger to me, and maybe it was because he'd been gone all day. Maybe it was because as soon as the candlelight hit him I could see that he was covered in blood.

"De-Dean?," I asked, taking a step away from him.

His intense glare pierced through me quicker than I could have anticipated, and I was suddenly afraid that he would hurt me.

"Don't be scared, baby. I ain't gonna hurt ya. I just got into a scuffle," Dean said gently. His tone told me he wasn't giving me the whole story, but I wasn't sure it was the right time to press him for the details.

"Are you alright?"

He nodded his dark head, a sad smile on his lips. I swallowed my fears and moved towards him, reaching out to press a palm to his chest. Feeling braver, I nudged his chin up and cupped it gently.

"You're wearin' one of my shirts," He said, tugging on the loose hem. I swallowed audibly.

"I hope that's okay-"

"Don't apologize. Looks better on you than it ever did on me," Dean said with a small smile. I sucked my lower lip into my mouth, unsure of how to respond.

"I'm sorry I made you mad," I said.

He frowned and he pushed my hand away from his face- which hurt; his rejection _hurt._ And it shouldn't, for more reasons than I could fathom it should. Not. Hurt. Me.

Yet, it did.

"Ya didn't make me mad, baby. I just needed a minute. Have ya...did you want to go into town? Call your family?"

"No!," I said too loudly.

His eyebrows quirked and I sighed, tugging on the long waves of my hair.

"I'm sorr- Look, I haven't been honest with you, and I feel _terrible._ The man...my fiance did this, and it wasn't the first time either. I never thought he'd take it this far, but yesterday he lured me out here and tried to strangle me," I said raggedly.

I pressed a palm to my chest in hopes that all my broken pieces would somehow fuse back together, but they still threatened to rip me open from the inside out. Dean's green gaze was so dark it was almost black.

 _There it is again, that blackness._

I took a shuddering breath.

"Chris liked to lay his hands on me, and he wasn't always so sweet. He told me we were going to take our engagement photos and while the rest is still fuzzy, I _do remember_ his hands around my throat...and then I woke up and...you know the rest," I finished.

His nostrils flared, and I rubbed a hand across my face.

"Dean, I'm so embarrassed and I hate that I wasn't honest with you. I understand if you want me to leave," I said truthfully.

Turning towards him, I saw that he was standing against the kitchen counter with his arms crossed over his somewhat bloody chest.

I took a risk and stepped towards him again.

Unfolding his strong, calloused hands, I spread them wide so I could lean in closer to see his handsome face. Moments passed with me standing there, looking up into his face, before he spoke.

"Why would ya wanna stay here?"

I clamped my mouth closed, pondering the easiest way to say it.

"I haven't felt safe in a very long time. You make me feel safe."

His chuckle was mirthless, and the shaking of his head that accompanied it was heart wrenching. I grabbed his chin in my hands, stopping the motion altogether.

"Please don't mock me."

His expression gentled and he took my small hands into his larger ones.

"If you knew all the things that I've done, you wouldn't feel safe. You'd be runnin' back to your family. I ain't got a good track record with women, Rosalie."

I tugged out of his hold and nodded.

"I get it. I won't- if you're worried that I'll expect anything out of you, just know that I don't. I just want some companionship. This whole ordeal with Chris has set me free from a life I never wanted," I admitted sheepishly.

"Why'd you agree to it then?," Dean asked.

I started to laugh, _really_ laugh.

"If you had a fist raised against you every time you dared to disobey, wouldn't you quit speaking up?," I asked.

His mouth fell into a frown.

"I s'pose I would."

I nodded and turned towards the front door.

"If you don't mind, I think I'll leave you to wash up. The breeze is lovely tonight and I think I'd like to sit on the porch," I said softly. He only dipped his head once, turning away from me like he'd been doing all night.

 _He doesn't want me._

 _He doesn't even think of me as a woman; only a little girl._

I just wanted a companion, as I said, because being anything more than that with Dean seemed to be exactly as he described.

Dangerous, stupid, completely wrong.

But it felt so right to be here with him. Like fate or something deeper.

The darkness outside rivaled the darkness I felt inside and for a moment it swallowed me whole and I wasn't here in this cabin with Dean.

I was back in my small house with Chris.

" _Rosalie, get yer ass back here!," Chris screamed._

 _My feet wouldn't stop; like a defense mechanism, they moved me farther from the porch._

 _I could hear his angry breaths as he neared my location._

" _I told ya I was sorry!"_

 _My bloody nose disagreed with that statement, and I reached up to wipe the streaming blood away from my open mouth. Looking around my back yard I tried to think of a solution. If he caught me, I'd get much worse than a bloody nose. But if I ran, where would I go? Mama would send me right back, and lord knows what she truly thought of me leaving a rich man like Chris._

" _ **He can give ya better, Rosalie! He can give ya a life I only dreamed about givin' ya."**_

 _But I didn't want the life she wanted for me, and I didn't need a rich man like Chris to give it to me. I just wanted to be happy, and living with Chris would only shorten my lifespan, not lengthen it._

" _Rosalie, get yer ass back in this house right now!," Chris roared._

 _I swallowed, closed my eyes tightly, and took a deep breath._

" _I can do this."_

 _But I couldn't._

 _I could_ _ **not**_ _live like this._

" _Found ya, ya stupid bitch!"_

 _The searing pain of his fingernails scraping against my scalp made my eyes snap open, and the burning glare from Chris made me whisper in pain._

 _And then everything went black-_

"Rosalie!"

I jerked, gasping for air as Dean clearly came into view. He had one hand resting on my waist and the other wrapped around the back of my neck and buried in my hair as he leaned towards me.

His green eyes were narrowed with concern as he tried to capture my attention.

"Baby? Where'd ya go?"

I shut my eyes and tried to remind myself it was just a memory, but the fear still lingered.

"I'm sorry-I was just- remeberin'," I whispered.

Dean pushed some hair away from my face and I took into account the fact that he was clean.

"What kind of a scuffle did you get into?," I wondered.

He shook his head and I stepped out of his reach.

"I need to think about something else right now."

He seemed to realize what I meant because he cleared his throat and dipped his chin once.

"I went into town to have a drink. Some wise guy got mouthy with me, and it pissed me off," Dean said.

"Do you often find yourself in fisticuffs with mouthy bar patrons?," I joked.

He watched me for a moment before he realized I was joking.

"I like it when you're sassy."

Nothing more, just a statement.

 _He liked something about me._

It wasn't followed up with a _but_ or a backhanded retort.

Just a compliment.

"I like the way you watch me."

His eyebrows quirked up, creating the cutest wrinkle across his forehead.

"I _watch_ you?"

I canted my head to the side.

"Are you saying you don't?"

He chuckled and shook his head.

"Fair enough. It's late. Why don't we catch some shut eye?"

I nodded my head, unsure about where we stood or what he wanted.

"You asked me why I would want to stay here," I said softly. Dean's gaze fell onto me and he nodded.

"Why would _you_ want _me_ to stay?"

His frown lessened by a fraction and he ran the pad of his thumb across my bottom lip.

"Same reason I watch ya, baby."

He didn't say anything more, and in reality he probably didn't need to.

He'd just confirmed that I wasn't a _little girl_ in his eyes.

No, to Dean I was very much a woman.

 _That makes all the difference in the world, doesn't it?_


	4. Chapter 4

(Dean POV)

Three days. She's been here for three days, and every day that passes makes it a little harder to remember that I'm a demon. That is, until my phone rings and I see a familiar name scroll across the screen that absolutely brings my head back down to earth.

 _Crowley..._

I answered it, watching from the bottom of the porch as Rosalie washed the remaining dishes in the sink.

" _Ah, Squirrel. My star pupil. Where are you?_ ," I heard.

I cleared my throat.

"About."

" _Have you come to a conclusion, then? If you haven't, I have a small favor to ask of you."_

The demon in me roared at the subtle command, instantly churning my gut.

"Sorry. Can't help ya. On the lamb."

A moment of silence passed, and suddenly Crowley was standing in front of me.

His smirk was all the antagonizing I needed before I was ready to rip my hair out.

"Little Squirrel found his nut," He said with a laugh. I snorted.

"Stop. It ain't like that."

He glanced towards the window, where I could clearly see Rosie singing softly to herself as she dusted, her nimble fingers wiping down the kitchen table.

"Have you heard from our beloved Moose?"

I shook my head.

"No, and I don't have an answer for ya either," I told him. Crowley eyed me and I rested my hands on my waist.

"What?"

"You do know who she is, do you not?"  
I shook my head and he laughed.

"This is too good! I wasn't a believer of fate my friend, but I must say this is a classic case of just that. Oh well, I can feel the flame of home singing my arse! I better be off. Ah, do take care of your ladylove, Dean. I'd hate to see you royally screw this up for yourself," Crowley said with a wink as he disappeared before my eyes.

I scoffed, snarling at the air around me as if he could hear me (which he probably could) as I pondered what the hell he just said.

"Snooty son of a bitch," I mouthed.

 _Fate._

 _Fate?_

 _What the hell was that ass talking about?_

The distinct sound of Rosie gasping for air caught my attention, and I turned towards the sound. She was standing up on a stool, waving her hands in the air with a frightened expression on her beautiful face.

"Dean!," She called.

The fear in her voice had me moving my feet quicker than it should, bursting through the door only to see her frantically pointing at a furry little spider.

"Kill it! Oh my God, kill it!," She cried, waving her hands like the gesture alone would kill the damn spider. I felt myself smile.

 _Really smile._

It took me a second to remember that she still had no idea who I really was, and that didn't settle well with me.

"Alright baby, hold on," I said gruffly.

Stepping onto the spider, I quickly kicked the bug off of my heel outside the front door and closed it behind me. I turned to face her, and took a second to appreciate how beautiful she looked in a faded pair of jean shorts and an AC/DC t-shirt. Both of which I'd purchased for her on my last trip into town yesterday morning. She had one tiny hand tucked against her mouth and her long hair was wrapped around her body like a curly auburn curtain. Her expressive blue eyes were still wide with fear, but she was watching me with an appreciative gleam in them.

"Thank you. I'm sorry- I just- _hate_ spiders," She told me with a serious expression. I cracked a smile then, unable to keep the chuckle inside.

I stepped to her, holding out my arms so she could fall into them. She watched me skeptically as she leaned down and wrapped an arm around my neck as she settled into my arms. I grinned at her.

"Chris would scare me with them. He knew I was terrified and if I would find one, he would taunt me with it for hours," She told me.

I frowned instantly, unable to keep the growl out of my voice as I snarled under my breath.

Her eyes widened and she hurriedly slapped a hand over my mouth.

"I won't ask you to kill one again, I promise."

Her innocent, sweet voice only further angered me.

 _What kind of a man would do that to a helpless little woman?_

"I'll always kill the spiders for ya, baby."

She relaxed into my hold and I sighed against her hair.

"How come you're so sweet to me, Dean?," She asked me.

 _Oh, sweetheart, ya got no clue..._

"'Cause you're so sweet to me," I said as I set her onto her feet. She smiled at me then, a shy quirk of her lips that was accompanied by the sexiest little blush I'd ever seen.

Slowly, as if she was afraid that she would scare me off, she leaned in and kissed the underside of my chin.

The gesture made me harder than a fuckin' rock.

"I like you, Dean Winchester. You're the best companion a gal could ask for," She said matter of factly. I snickered and rolled my eyes. She nudged my shoulder and gestured towards the fridge.

"I thought I'd fix us some supper if you were up for it. It'll get dark soon, so I thought maybe you could bring in some wood for the fire place and I would start making dinner."

I thought about all the nights I went without a home made meal, all the nights that I stayed up with Sam eating take out.

 _I miss it._

 _No I don't, I don't need anyone.  
_ I snarled under my breath again, and Rosalie turned away from the kitchen counter to glare at me.

"Don't take that tone with me, Winchester."

My eyes widened, and she seemed surprised at herself.

Instead of making me mad, it made me _hot_ and I wanted nothing more than to take her into my arms again and kiss that sassy, sweet, _sexy_ mouth of hers-

"Dean? Come on, it's gettin' colder out there."

I nodded, stepping outside before I could make a fool of myself and actually try and kiss her.

She needed time.

 _Take her, taste her, have her._

 _She's ours._

 _She wants me._

I shook my head as my thoughts threatened to overtake me.

Wood.

 _I've got some fuckin' wood for that sexy broad._

Son of a bitch, no.

I got to work tossing some wood into a pile, and for some reason, I carefully checked the entire pile for furry little spiders.

I listened to Dean throw some wood into the fireplace and smiled to myself. I hadn't meant to be so sassy with him, but it felt good to be so...close? Almost? We were forming a pretty decent bond with one another, and while the reason we'd met wasn't a very good one, I was enjoying our time together.

I enjoyed _Dean._

"Baby? Ya seen the long lighter?"

I shook my head, and heard the fireplace burst into flames behind me.

I turned to see it, surprised.

"You found it that fast?"

He cleared his throat and shrugged, smiling at me awkwardly.

"Yeah. It was right in front of my face," He said as he scratched the back of his neck. I shrugged it off, turning back to the steak I was tenderizing. As I worked I could hear Dean (still only out of one ear) behind me doing something. A quick glance told me he was making the table, something I never thought I would see any man do.

"Thank you," I murmured.

His gaze shot to me, I could feel it, following every line of my body on it's way to my face.

"You're welcome."

It sounded heavy, and from the way my body was responding, I liked it. I liked him alot, and I knew I shouldn't.

It was too soon.

We were playing a domestic game that would only lead me to getting hurt _again._

Yet as time continued to sweep me up in its clutches, I told myself that I wasn't going to fall in love with another man who didn't want me.

Who didn't _love_ me.

I hadn't known Dean long enough for him to love me, and that was the only way I'd ever really be happy.

 _I just want to be loved._

"Rosie, you're gonna turn that meat to sauce if ya keep hittin' it that hard," Dean said behind me. I jumped, dropping the tenderizer onto the counter. I heard Dean's intake of breath as he stepped forward, surprising me ten-fold when he wrapped his arms around me from behind and took the tenderizer into his hands.

"I didn't mean to scare ya. I wasn't yellin' at ya," He said softly.

I sniffed and shook my head.

"I didn't mean to ruin-"

"Stop. Ya didn't ruin nothin', what's wrong with ya tonight? You've been jumpy all night. Have you...I mean are ya thinkin' of your man?," Dean asked, his gruff voice blowing hot whispers across my ear. I shivered involuntarily, glancing at him over my shoulder.

Before me, he was pressing seasonings into the steak, his adept fingers gliding over the tender meat like a pro.

"I ain't got a man," I whispered.

Dean stiffened behind me.

"You're better off."

I snorted.

"I reckon you're right," I replied.

Dean stepped away from me and gestured to the back door.

"I'll take those outside and grill 'em. You want anything else to eat?"

"I can make us a salad," I said.

He smiled at me, a wide toothy smile.

"Try not to miss me while I'm gone," He said with a saucy wink. I smiled back at him, placing a hand on my waist.

"And what if I do, Dean Winchester?

His smile fell and he stopped moving.

"I won't ever touch ya unless ya ask me to, baby," He said.

Like a moth to a flame I was drawn to him, but I refrained from stepping towards him like every cell in my body was practically _begging_ me to do. Instead of telling him I wanted him to touch me, that I almost _needed_ someone other than Chris to touch me, I turned away from him. I hated that I wanted Dean to be the one to erase the memory of him, but it felt so right to need it.

"I'll be back in a jiff," Dean said softly as he eased out of the room and onto the porch. The cool breeze that wafted inside chilled my overheated skin. The crickets sang a familiar song, and I wondered if my family was even looking for me. I wondered how far Chris got before he realized that he'd actually _murdered_ me. For all he knew I _was_ dead.

 _Dean saved me._

 _He patched me up._

 _He wants me around._

I was washing and chopping the salad when I heard Dean's boots on the hardwood.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Shoot."

"How come you never take your shoes off?," I wondered out loud.

As I turned to see Dean placing a steaming plate onto the already made table he shrugged.

"Do you _want_ me to take my shoes off?"

I shrugged.

He smiled, shaking his head, as he kicked his boots off and carried them towards the front door. After he made a show of dropping them to the floor, he casually made his way back towards the small kitchen. I watched as he bent over in the fridge, pulling a beer out.

"Ya want one?"

"I'm not allowed," I said before I could think about it. I paused, salad bowl halfway onto the table. Dean turned and looked at me.

"Ya can do whatever you want here, baby."

 _Whatever I want?_

 _Does he not know how tempting that offer is?_

I smiled.

"Alright. I'll have a beer since you took your shoes off for me. An equal trade," I joked. His chuckle followed him to the table, and I took the beer he handed to me.

I noticed that he'd even twisted the top off for me and once again wondered how a man could be so thoughtful.

"Steak smells good."

He nodded and pulled out a chair for me. I thanked him before sitting down and spreading my napkin onto my lap. Dean sat back in his chair and crossed his legs at the ankles, looking decidedly relaxed.

"Aren't ya hungry?"

"I'll eat after you get yours," he told me.

I swallowed my smile and lifted a tiny sliver of steak and a generous helping of salad onto my plate.

"Ya don't eat meat?"

I shrugged.

"I eat a lot of chicken. Not a lot of red meat. Doesn't settle well," I explained as I tucked a tomato into my mouth.

Dean grimaced and I laughed, nudging his thigh beneath the table.

"Let me guess-you eat as much red meat as you can?"

He set his beer onto the table and lifted the foot I'd nudged him with into his lap.

"Damn right I do! What kind of a man wouldn't?," He asked with a wink.

Happily it seemed, he piled steak onto his plate and smothered it with A1 steak sauce. I giggled, taunting him with my fork full of salad. Through his massive mouthful of food he managed to frown.

It only made me laugh harder, until both of us were bent closer to each other, laughing from deep in our bellies.

His jade eyes were trained on me like I would disappear, and his grip on my foot under the table tightened.

Slowly, his smile slid from his face, and he set his own fork down onto the table.

"Rosie, I gotta tell ya something."

I frowned.

"Oh my God, you're married aren't you? I knew it!," I cried, pushing myself away from him. He caught me before I could stand, sliding my chair across the floor so I was settled between his legs like it was nothing. I fought against his hold, but he was stronger than any man I'd come across.

"Settle yourself, I ain't married. But I've been thinkin', and I really like havin' you to come home to."

My eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

"You...want me to leave? I can go-"

Dean shook his head, dropping his gaze to his hands.

"I don't know what I'm tryin' to say."

I sighed.

"What I'm _tryin' and failin'_ to say, is that I really like ya," Dean finally said.

I smiled.

"You started an almost-fight because you wanted to tell me you _like_ me?," I asked with a laugh. Dean glared at me and rolled his eyes.

"Get off my case, I told ya I didn't know how to say it!"

With a nod of my head I scooted my chair away from him and picked at my salad.

As we both settled into eating (finally, really) I noticed that Dean was drinking more than usual.

"Did you have a bad day?," I asked. He'd told me he was a hunter and sometimes he would be gone for hours. He'd explained that he sold his game to people in town and lived off of that money in this little cabin.

Yet there was still a lot that he hadn't said. A lot that he almost _wouldn't_ say, and it worried me. I truly knew nearly nothing about him, and I could see myself falling in love with him.

His green eyes perused my face and he twisted his mouth into an unfamiliar frown.

 _A snarl._

"I don't wanna talk about my day, Rosalie."

I snapped my mouth closed at the terse tone of his voice, unsure as to why he was acting the way that he was. But he seemed volatile; the way he was watching everything in the room but me, the way his shoulders were tensed. He'd gone from happy to pissed in a matter of thirty seconds, and it reminded me a lot of Chris.

I didn't like the feeling.

Pushing my plate away, I moved towards the counter and began to scrape my leftovers into the trash. The silence behind me was overwhelming, thick, almost palpable.

I heard a chair scrape across the floor behind me and I jerked, slicing my finger with the knife I was holding.

"Ouch!," I hissed.

Two strong hands wrapped around mine, and the shame I saw in Dean's eyes was maddening.

"Don't look at me like that, Dean."

His lip lifted in the corner, just barely, and I got the notion that telling him what to do really grated on his nerves.

"You scare me sometimes."

The words came out of my mouth in a whisper, and I winced at how much they seemed to hurt me. As he studied the wound on my finger, he didn't look at me once.

"Just a nick. Won't even scar. I'm gonna head out for a few," He said shortly.

I sighed in frustration and stomped my foot.

Dean got all the way to the door before I called out to him.

"Wait!," I whispered adamantly.

Dean's spine stiffened, and he barely turned his head as he addressed me.

"I ain't gonna scare ya, Rosie. I don't _want_ to scare you," Dean said softly.

I tugged on the ends of my hair and moved to him.

Sliding my hands up his back, I reveled in the strangled sound he made.

"I have no idea who you are. I don't know your favorite color, or your favorite band. I don't know your mother's name, or if you have any siblings," I said. I turned him slowly, tucking my fingers under the hem of his shirt and silently rejoicing at the heat his skin brought to my face.

I looked up into his green eyes, wishing they weren't so clouded.

"But I _did_ know all of those things about Chris, and ya know what?," I whispered.

Dean slowly shook his head, his jaw tense.

"I didn't feel half as strongly for him, as I do about you. I know it sounds crazy, and I couldn't explain it even if I wanted to. All I'm sure about at this point, is that if you'll let me, I wanna _know_ you," I told him truthfully.

Dean's hands moved to cup my chin, and he ran the pad of his thumb across my bottom lip.

"You're soft. I'm not soft, Rosie. I don't wanna hurt ya like that boy did."

"You're not a boy, Dean. You're a man. I like you too," I said softly.

He sucked in a breath and dipped his chin towards me.

Looking into my eyes, he leaned forward until his mouth was a breath away.

"Stop me if ya don't want me kissin' ya, baby."

I said nothing, and as if he could read my mind, he pressed his mouth to mine. His kiss was contradictory to the man he seemed to be; gentle and teasing, soft.

I felt my hands clench against his hot skin, hard and supple beneath my fingers.

"Shit, baby. Don't be clawin' at me like that, or I'll lose my head. I'm tryin' to be gentle with ya," Dean said against my mouth.

My eyes fluttered open just enough to see him watching me, his jade eyes completely black.

I jerked away from him, careening backwards. But when he blinked they were back to their normal green, and I questioned if they had ever actually been black.

"Baby? What's wrong?"

Dean came towards me, wrapping me up into his arms.

"Nothing, I- I thought I saw a spider," I murmured.

Dean pulled back and kissed my forehead tenderly.

"No need to be scared, I'll always protect you."

 _That's a promise I've never heard before._


	5. Chapter 5

(Dean POV)

Crowley told me I wouldn't feel anythin' about anyone.

He was wrong.

Every day and every night, I felt a whole lot of somethin' I couldn't quite recognize. I felt it when she caught me watching her, more often than not I couldn't help _but_ watch her. Sometimes watchin' her was all I could stand to do.

And her sass?

Well, every day I watched her grow into a different woman. Still quiet, still sweet; but man, did she sass me until her tongue went numb.

Mostly it went numb from me kissin' her, because I couldn't help but kiss her as often as possible.

Two weeks passed in the blink of an eye, and almost like a fairytale, she kept my monsters at bay.

Just when I was sure I was going to lose my mind in a fit of rage, or depravity, she would capture me wholly. Implicitly.

She would wrap her arms around me and ground me; the anchor I never knew I would need.

Just two nights ago we sat outside on the porch, holdin' hands like an old married couple, watching the moon and the stars.

" _Are you afraid of anything, Dean?"_

 _Rosalie's perfect voice met my ears like a classic rock song; sultry, unique. I wanted to tell her I was afraid of a lot. I wanted to tell her I was afraid that one day she would wake up and see me as the monster that I really am. I was afraid that at some point she would come to hate me like she did Chris. I was afraid that in my fear of losing her, I would hurt her._

" _No. Are you?"_

 _She smiled, more to herself than to me, and peeked over at me._

" _I'm obviously afraid of spiders. And the dark; I really hate the dark. I'm afraid of waking up and finding out these last two weeks were all a dream," She said softly._

 _Her smile wavered slightly, and she tugged that sexy bottom lip between her teeth,_

 _I wanted to tell her right then and there that she was mine for always, but I kept quiet._

 _I wanted to tell her that I could love her, if my soul wasn't black and my future wasn't tainted._

" _If they are a dream, they're the best damn dream I've ever had," I said lightly. I brought her hand to my mouth and kissed her palm, earning a smile from her._

 _I_ _ **lived**_ _for those smiles._

" _Do you think if we'd met under different circumstances, you would still want to be my companion?," She wondered aloud. I could see the concentration on her face, so I knew the question was a genuinely curious one._

 _I'd search for you for the rest of eternity._

" _I'll always wanna be your companion, baby."_

 _Her cheeks flushed and I smirked at her._

" _I like when you speak to me like that."_

 _She liked my directness; she liked my bluntness, something I wasn't usually liked for._

" _I know. I like the way your cheeks heat when I tell ya what I'm thinkin'."_

 _Rosalie climbed out of her chair and onto my lap, her long hair falling around my face as she leaned down to kiss me chastely on the mouth._

" _I could stay here forever, with you."_

 _Her softly spoken words pierced directly through my blackened heart, and I was sure that in that moment, she was my decision._

 _She was the side I would always fight for._

 _My mouth opened under hers, and she sighed contentedly like a kitten and I wrapped one hand around the back of her neck to anchor her to me._

 _Her tiny fingers combed through my long hair, brushing it back off of my forehead as she tentatively touched her tongue to mine._

 _She burns me._

 _She heals me._

 _She_ _ **puts me back together.**_

" _I think I love you," She whispered._

 _I wanted to tell her that I loved her too, that for some reason unknown to me, the only thing that I could actually feel, was_ _ **her.**_

 _I couldn't make myself say the words, but I could lift her into my arms, and carry her inside._

 _I could kiss her deeply, touch her softly, and show her with my actions that even if I couldn't willingly give her my heart, I could give her anything she ever asked me for. She wrapped her body around mine, and the fit was perfect._

 _I know that she wanted to hear me say the words, I know that she wanted to hear me tell her that I needed her, but all I could do was show her._

 _Instead of telling her that I loved her, I told her the truth._

" _I'm afraid of losing you."_

I watched Rosalie move around the kitchen, with that memory still fresh on my mind, and when her eyes met mine over the rim of her coffee mug, she smiled. For the last three nights in a row, she'd let me touch her body. No sex yet, but then, for some reason I didn't need it from her.

Did I want it?

 _Fuck yes._

Yet, even though I starved for her down to the very molecular level of my being...I didn't want to take what she didn't want to give.

"What are you thinking about over there?," She murmured in my direction. I shrugged, leaning down to kiss a sun-kissed shoulder she had turned in my direction.

"Do you wanna go for another walk in the woods with me later?," I asked.

I had no idea how she didn't have cabin fever, but every time I tried to convince her that she should go into town with me, she refused.

" _I like being on the lamb with you, Dean."_

That's what she'd always say, and I wouldn't ever push the envelope with that one.

She nodded her head eagerly, her blue eyes meeting mine in a way that had me stomach clenching.

"You're beautiful," I heard myself say.

Her eyes widened, and I understood.

This was the first time I'd said it so bluntly.

"Thank you," she whispered.

I nodded, and turned to leave, but she stopped me with a hand on my elbow.

"I think you're beautiful too," She started, turning me to face her. After setting her mug onto the table beside us, she laid her hands flat over my chest.

"I know ya got some baggage, Dean. For heaven's sake, I won't even let you see me naked with the lights on...But I think you're beautiful in _here_ ," She told me.

She patted my chest, directly over my heart, and the overwhelming _joy_ it brought me...well, I wanted to consume her.

"I ain't nothin' special," I told her. I pressed my hands on top of hers and she nuzzled my chin. Her soft lips met the underside of my jaw, and I heard myself chuckle.

"You're like a fuzzy little kitten," I whispered, running my hands through her long hair.

Rosalie's eyes lit up at that comment, and I wrapped my arms around her waist.

She giggled, cupping my cheeks in her hands, and kissed my mouth.

"I love you, Dean Winchester," She said.

It was amazing to hear her say it, knowing full well that she was still healing from her previous relationship. It was beautiful to know that she could still _love_ someone after her ex had hurt her so deeply.

"You know I'd do anythin' for ya don't ya, baby?"

She dipped her head, still smiling.

Looking up into my eyes, she kissed me again.

"What do ya say we head into town later? Get some dinner together?"

Rosalie nibbled on her bottom lip for a moment before finally nodding her head yes.

"Good. Wear that little blue dress I bought ya, the one that matches those gorgeous peepers of yours," I said gruffly.

She winked at me, that little vixen, and stepped into the bathroom.

I was holding hands with Dean as we strolled along the sidewalk. He was smiling down at me, his green eyes sparkling with warmth. As we turned into an alleyway to have a private kiss, Dean was pulled out of my arms by a man wearing cargo pants and wielding a gun.

My mouth fell open in shock, a scream building in the back of my throat, when I found the gun pointed at me.

"Don't make a fuckin' noise. I ain't here for you. I'm here for _him,"_ The man said.

Dean smiled wickedly, a reaction that surprised me.

I frowned, reaching out towards Dean who only pushed me back.

"What's this about?"

I watched, horrified, as Dean rounded the man with a gun like it wouldn't- _couldn't_ hurt him. Terrified, I tried more than once to get Dean's attention, but he seemed quite intent on fighting with the man, Cole he said his name was, to the death!

With frantic eyes I watched, and failed, to understand what the hell was going on as Dean began to fight hand to knife style with Cole.

Cole's word were echoing in my head, something about getting revenge on Dean for killing his father in 2003. Dean had only laughed, _laughed_ like a maniac before going on to admit that he very well may have killed him, but how could he remember? _They all blended together..._

It was in that moment that I realized that Dean wasn't the man I thought he was. It was obvious he was capable of great violence.

Capable of _killing._

How had I missed this?

Suddenly I questioned every moment we spent together; his attitude right now contradicted every gesture, every smile.

 _Every kiss he laid upon my body._

Yet, he had never _really_ opened up to me, had he?

And me, stupidly, had allowed him to keep his distance, to keep his _secrets,_ even while falling head over heels in love with him.

My mind was racing with the undeniable truth, the weight of it, the reality.

A few weeks, a few mind-blowingly-magical weeks didn't really change anything, did they? Dean knew all along that he wasn't who I thought he was; he'd insisted as much on more than one occasion...

He _played_ me.

The sweet little damsel in distress, poor sweet Rosalie.

Wait, Dean had a _brother?_

Wait, Dean _murdered a man?_

I swallowed my fear, and stopped trying to reach out for Dean in that second.

I understood completely now, just how badly I'd screwed up.

Cole Trent apparently spent half of his life training with the sole purpose to kill Dean Winchester, and I was going to watch this happen right before my eyes...

Except Dean seemed to be _invincible._

The haze cleared from my mind, and I took a look around only to discover a man lying on the pavement unconscious. I rushed to him, only taking a moment to look behind me at the two men who were now duking it out like they did it all the time.

 _Maybe he does, Rosalie._

 _We don't know that man over there._

I knew this guy had to be Dean's brother Sam, from the ramblings I heard come out of Cole's mouth.

Brushing the hair out of Sam's face I heard Dean mention something about kung-fu behind me, and suddenly Sam's eyes were wide open and he was staring up at me confused.

"I saw you with Dean...are you alright? Did he hurt you?," Sam asked hurriedly as I helped him to his feet.

I shook my head.

"What? No! No...Are you okay? What the hell is going on?," I asked. Sam shook his head this time, and turned towards the metal doors behind us.

"Stay right here, and do not move!," He ordered.

I agreed and turned in time to hear Dean say something about being a demon.

I felt the blood drain from my face.

 _Demon..._

 _Demon..._

 _Demon..._

I watched his eyes flicker to that awful black and gasped, careening backwards into the metal doors behind me just as Dean smiled menacingly at Cole. Those black eyes inwardly mocked me as I remembered how crazy I felt when I thought I'd imagined them.

Dean's gaze shot to mine and I knew that I must have looked pitiful; my cheeks covered in inky trails, my lips quivering in fear.

"Close your eyes, baby. I don't want ya to watch this," He said softly.

I thought that sounded like an amazing idea.

So I closed my eyes.

And then I heard Cole beg for Dean to kill him, and I realized that Dean probably would.

"Wait!," I cried.

I opened my eyes to see both men watching me.

"Don't do it, Dean. Please," I whispered raggedly.

I took an unsteady step towards him, and he lowered whatever that strange knife was that he was holding against Cole's throat.

Cole looked worse for wear as he sucked in a breath.

"Do it! You said if you saw me again you would kill me! _So do it!"_

I shook my head and held a hand out towards Dean.

"Dean, don't! Look at the ring on his hand. He has a wife, he has a _family._ Let him go," I pleaded.

Dean watched me for a moment before he dropped Cole to the ground and took a step back.

I stepped towards him, my mind warring with my heart as I hurriedly checked to make sure he was okay.

Even though a part of me was so disturbed by what I'd just discovered, I needed to know.

"Was any of it real for you?," I whispered brokenly.

His face fell and he gently grazed my cheek with a bloody knuckle.

"Of course, baby," He said fiercely.

"You aren't even human!," I spat.

He winced at that, and I saw Cole glancing back and forth between us.

"I can explain, just- don't look at me like that, baby."

I scoffed.

"Like _what?_ Like you lied to me? Used me? _Betrayed me?!_ ," I screamed.

His jaw clenched at that, and he shook his head.

Before he could answer me Sam came from behind me and tossed water on Dean's skin that burned him and made him hiss. Handcuffing him, Sam turned to me.

"I don't know your story, and right now I have bigger concerns- but I can't just leave you here."

I stepped away from him and a struggling Dean, at whom Sam screamed to stop fighting.

"It's over!"

Dean glared at him.

"Where are you taking him?"

"Back to our home, in Kansas."

"I...can't," I finally said.

Dean flinched, shaking his head.

"Rosie, I ain't leavin' you!"

Sam wrenched him away from me, dragging him across the asphalt.

All the while, he screamed my name, and the sound literally frayed my soul around the edges.

Once Dean was secured in his own car by Sam, Sam turned to me one more time.

"I can come back for you. After."

I shook my head.

"No."

Dean made a strangled sound in the back of his throat.

"You said you loved me," He practically growled from the passenger side window.

I choked on a sob.

" _I do_. I just didn't realize that you could never love me back."


	6. Chapter 6

Back at the cabin, after far too much time on my feet, I was sure I was going to completely melt into the worn hardwood.

I had no idea which way was up, which way was _right._

The man I was in love with...was a Demon.

A soulless, hellish being.

 _Why do I have a type?_

I slammed my head onto my folded forearms, the tears falling from my eyes faster than I really liked. I was sipping from Dean's favorite snifter, the sweet amber colored whiskey glinting in the dim candlelight.

I was terrified to turn on the lights, terrified to look around the cabin Dean had jokingly referred to as our _love cabin._

I couldn't look at it in the light, not now that I knew it was all false.

It was all meaningless.

Dean's phone had rung a few times already, thumping across the top of the table to it's own beat.

It rang now, and finally, I answered it.

"Hello?"

" _What'sa matter, love? Deanmon got ya down?,_ " I heard.

I sat up straight, looking around the empty cabin.

"Who is this?"

There was a brief silence before I heard a grunt behind me.

I turned to see a shorter man dressed in a well tailored suit watching me.

"Is this real?"

"I'm afraid so, Rosalie. The name's Crowley. King of Hell, at your service," He said politely.

I winced at the mention of Hell, mostly because my love was now known to be a _demon._

"How did you get in here?"

"Perk of the job, I'm afraid. No worries, love. I mean no harm. On the contrary, I am here to help," Crowley said with a smirk.

I swallowed the pain that welled up in the back of my throat.

"How?," I whispered.

He tilted his head to the side.

"Our little Squirrel has found his nut. Or, rather, Dean-o has found his soulmate. Which, of course, makes me appreciate the irony of the fact that he is currently _soulless._ "

I frowned.

"Please explain what you mean."

Crowley's expression grew somber.

"Dean made a choice for the greater good that cost him his soul. He wasn't always a demon, and he won't be for much longer, love. Dean Winchester, as much as it pains me to say this, is a good man," Crowley said.

"He needed a little nudge, a little push if you will. He's grown to be quite the pain in my arse these last few months, and I'm afraid he's sucked all the fun out of this. So I sent you to him, and it worked like a charm."

His smile made me cry.

"Oh, come now, love. I thought this would make you happy!"

"I know _nothing_ about the Dean Winchester you're talking about!," I cried.

He tsked.

"Don't you? Has the Dean _you_ know ever raised his hand against you? Has he ever intentionally hurt you in any way?," Crowley asked me.

I shook my head.

"Right! And you see, that goes against his very nature as a demon. Even in death Dean Winchester could never hurt you, Rosalie. He's your soulmate. As a human Dean bore a great deal of guilt and anguish; as a demon he is free of all that pain he endured. He wants to remain a demon for that reason only. That is, he _did_ , until you came along."

I shook my head and Crowley looked at his watch.

"Look love, I'm here to do Squirrel one last favor. You and I are going on a little trip, and trust me when I say you'll want to be with Dean for this. He's going to need you," Crowley told me as he took my hand into his.

I looked into his dark eyes and swallowed a breath.

"Thank you, Mr. Crowley."

He chuckled softly, shaking his head.

"I'm too nice. You're far too good for that behemoth."

I blushed and he patted my hand.

The room spun instantly, and when I opened my eyes I was standing in the middle of a strange looking library and Sam was looking at me with a confused frown marring his handsome face.

Crowley was nowhere in sight, and as I gathered my thoughts I took a deep breath.

"Do you know a man named Crowley?"

The confusion left Sam's face as he gestured towards a chair next to me.

"So you're Rosalie. Crowley mentioned you on the phone a couple weeks ago...I'll admit, I had no idea what role you played in all of this."

I shook my head, tugging my long hair over my shoulders and resting it in my lap.

"I didn't think I was playing a role...I thought Dean cared for me."

The tears welled up in my eyes again, and I pressed my palms against them.

"I'm sorry. I know this must be more difficult for you, as his brother," I said laying one of my hands over his on top of the table before me.

Sam just watched me quietly for a second before a smile broke out across his face.

He began to laugh, shaking his head as he did so.

I began to retract my hand, offended, but his words stopped me.

"Dean cares for you, more than he cares about anything right now. He's threatened to kill me in _at least_ thirty-two different ways since we started our journey here if I didn't go back for you."

I snorted out a laugh, joining Sam in the humor of it.

"Dean saved my life. My fiance tried to kill me in the woods behind Dean's cabin. I made it to Dean's cabin, but just barely. He brought me inside, nursed me back to health. Killed spiders for me. Walked barefoot in the dirt with me. Held me under the stars and told me he would do anything for me. He never even pushed for me to have sex with him," I whispered sadly.

I smiled to myself at the memory, shrugging as I looked up at Sam.

His hazel eyes were wide.

"You love him, don't you? You _really_ love him?"

I laughed at how surprised he sounded.

"Yeah, Sam. Unfortunately I do. I don't know why Crowley sent me here, this all hurts too much. I still don't believe what he said, but before I tell you, do you think you could take me to Dean?," I asked.

Sam watched me silently for a moment before he nodded and stood, holding out his hand for me.

I shakily took it, appreciative of the fact that his skin was warm where mine was cold.

Sam led me through their home, which was unique to say the least, as Sam led me to what he called...the dungeon.

 _A dungeon?_

 _Really?_

I felt as hollow as the halls Sam led me through.

When I first saw Dean he had his head bent forward, his legs spread wide as he lounged in the chair he was chained to. He was sitting on top of some large symbol painted onto the floor. Sam glanced at me.

"I'll be right out here."

Dean's head snapped up and his pained green eyes met mine. He struggled in the chains as he looked me up and down.

I'd changed out of the blue dress and was now clad in his favorite red plaid shirt and a pair of black leggings.

"Baby...," He said softly.

I shook my head, turning to face the doorway as the tears crawled up the back of my throat.

I heard Dean trying to scoot the chair closer to me, to no avail.

"Please come here, Rosalie. Let me see you. I need to know you're okay," Dean croaked.

I shook my head and turned back around, taking two careful steps towards the man in the chair. The demon.

"How can you sit there and act like this is tearing you up inside? How can you _still_ want me to believe that it hurts you as much as it hurts me?!," I hissed.

Dean's entire demeanor changed as he lurched forward in his chair.

With narrowed eyes he watched me, his jaw ticking.

"I brought you into my house, I took care of ya. I didn't _want_ to do that, but I couldn't help myself! One look into those sweet baby blues of yours and I was lost. Don't demean our time together," He said angrily.

"You lied."

"I know."

"You let me fall in love with you, knowing you didn't love me back," I said softly.

His green eyes were glistening in the dim light as he watched me.

"I know that, too. But baby, if I could love you, _I would."_

I scoffed.

"If you could? Don't ya think being a demon was something you could have mentioned, oh I don't know, _around day one?_ ," I spat. Dean shook his head.

He stayed quiet for so long I'd almost begun to wonder if he was ignoring me.

Feeling like the sticky side of a faded sheet of wallpaper, I sunk down the farthest wall from him.

"Haven't ya ever wanted somethin' so badly, you'd be willin' to do anythin' to keep it?," Dean asked me.

His voice sounded gravelly, gruff, pained.

"You. I wanted _you_ ," I told him.

He turned his head to look at me, his green eyes desperate.

"Then let me keep you, don't walk away. I may not have much time left anyways. Sam thinks he can cure me-with my luck, he'll kill me! Just...don't go," Dean said.

The thought of him leaving this earth entirely had me covering my face with my hands. I couldn't bear that happening. I didn't want to wake up in a world where Dean didn't exist, not even as a demon-which, come on, how fucking sad was _that?_

"You'd let Sam kill you?"

"Would that make you happy?"

I huffed out a breath, shaking my head.

"No, Dean. It wouldn't. But I can't trust you."

He groaned.

"I ain't hurt ya yet, have I? I never wanted ya to be afraid of me, Rosie. I only wanted to have ya all to myself," Dean admitted.

I swallowed my pride and decided to ask him something else entirely.

"How come you never wanted to make love to me?"

His green eyes flew open and he canted his head to the side to view me better.

"You think I didn't wanna fuck you?"

I winced at the crude way he phrased it, and then decided maybe being angry would benefit me more.

"Yeah, I guess I am. You sure didn't mind touching my naked body in other ways. Why didn't you want to _fuck_ me, Dean?"

He blinked, and there it was-the _blackness_ that most assuredly painted every inch of soul as well as his eyes.

"Believe me, baby. I wanted to fuck your brains out, but I didn't want to hurt you. You honestly think it was easy to stop touchin' ya, when you were sighin' my name so sweetly? Huh?," He growled.

He shook in his chains and I flew backwards, right into a hard chest behind me. I squealed, turning to face Sam. His sorrowful expression had me pausing; that, coupled with the way his hands cupped around my raised elbows had me frozen.

"Get your hands off of her!," Dean panted behind me.

Sam glanced at him and then canted his head in my direction.

"You're it, aren't you?"

I frowned.

"I'm what?," I whispered.

He blinked and then motioned behind him.

"It's time to give him his second dose of human blood. I'll meet you upstairs, Rosie. I'll tell you everything," Sam said gently. I nodded.

"Don't you fuckin' leave me here, Rosalie! Let me _out!_ ," Dean screamed at my back. I winced, shutting my eyes tightly.

I took a step forward, and then hesitated.

Turning, I looked back at Sam, who was injecting Dean with _human blood!_

I sucked on my bottom lip, unsure, and Dean's black eyes caught me in their hold.

"Baby, _please."_

"Is the human Dean worth it?," I asked Sam.

He glared at the man sitting in chains before him.

"Trust me, Rosie. If you love this Dean the way I think you do, then you'll wish you'd never seen him like this when he's human again," Sam said sadly.

"I killed your fuckin' fiance for you!," Dean screamed at me.

I gasped, staring at him like the stranger he was quickly becoming.

"What?," I whispered.

"Chris? The man that laid his hands on ya? He's dead. I killed him that first night you were with me," Dean spat.

Images of Dean coming in late at night, covered in blood, filled my head...

"He's dead?"

 _I really am free?_

"You bet your ass he is! Come on, baby. I told ya I'd do anythin' for ya. Let me out of here," Dean begged me.

Sam sighed and walked past me, flicking his thumb towards the stairs.

"Five minutes. I'll give you five minutes with him, Rosie. He's gonna say whatever you want to hear to get what he wants. Remember, he's a _demon._ "

Dean literally roared at that comment, and I covered my ears as the sound echoed in the room around us.

As soon as Sam was gone, I stepped towards Dean.

"You killed a man? For me?"

He dipped his head and sneered.

"I'd do it again, too. I told ya I wanted ya."

I coughed on a mirthless chuckle.

"Dean, I don't need you to do things for me in order to keep me- _especially murder!_. I just wanted _you._ "

He didn't seem to believe me, so I swallowed my tears and leaned forward to press my mouth to his.

"I'm terrified of you right now. I'm afraid this is a nightmare, I'm afraid it's real. I'm scared that you'll hurt me. But honestly? I'm afraid that Sam _will_ kill you and then I won't get to keep you anyways," I admitted, pushing hair away from his forehead.

He leaned into my hand and I felt his tongue sweep out of his mouth to caress my palm.

I yanked it away from him and his eyes opened to reveal their usual green color.

"If you leave me down here, I'm done with ya."

The green in his eyes faded to black and he snarled at me from his chair.

I huffed out a breath, my eyes filling with tears.

Stepping forward, my hand connected with his cheek, resulting in a resounding echo.

"We'll just see about that, won't we?"

He gnashed his teeth at me, and I took that as an excuse to leave him where he sat. Without stopping to say a word to Sam, I made my way upstairs, and fell down into a chair. I saw a snifter and bottle of whiskey sitting idly and neglected, so I tugged it towards me.

Swallowing the shot in the glass in one move, Sam sat down across from me and cleared his throat.

"That's Dean's."

I shrugged.

"Please start talking."

Sam watched me silently for a few seconds before he nodded, and started at the very beginning.

From their parents, Mary and John, to their dear friend Bobby. From their childhoods, to the death of Jessica, to the loss of Jo. For hours, Sam spoke, and I drank.

By the time he was done my insignificant life with Chris seemed even smaller, even less, than I thought it would be. When I finally realized he'd stopped talking, Sam leaned forward and laid a large hand over my hand that was currently raising the glass to my lips.

"It's empty, Rosie."

I looked down to see he was right, to see that my glass was in fact empty. To see that the bottle was entirely _too_ empty.

"May I have more, please?," I whispered.

His hazel eyes met my blue ones over the brief flame that flickered on the tip of a blueberry scented candle lit between us.

"You haven't said one word about what I just told you."

I swallowed, gripping his hand.

"I feel very unimportant, Sam. What you just told me is far bigger, _far greater_ than anything I could ever hope to achieve! I am so fucking humbled- I am _proud_ of you. Of Dean. Do you understand what I'm saying?," I asked drunkenly.

He nodded.

I released his hand.

"I have no idea why I'm here. You don't need someone like me hangin' around, and truthfully I don't see what use you'll have for me here. I want to thank you for telling me your story though; for helping me to understand who Dean _really is_ ," I told him with a sad smile.

I stood, trying with all of my might to stay balanced.

"Wait! You can't- you can't just leave! What about Dean?," Sam asked.

I covered my face with my hands.

"He needs someone better, Sam. Someone better than me," I replied.

Sam scoffed.

"Don't say that. Don't even _try._ I've been looking for Dean for six months, Rosie. And ya know what? You've made more of a difference to him than I ever could have hoped," Sam spat.

I knew I was being weak; I knew I was being stupid.

 _I need so much time._

"Sam, what you just told me changes everything. Your lives are literally always on the line. I'll slow you down. I'll make it hard. Me? I haven't the first idea how to change anything for the better for you. I do not want to burden you, or the man who saved me. I need to figure out who _I_ am before I find out who _Dean_ is," I said sadly.

I knew I was broken.

I knew I was leaving the one man I would always want.

I knew that the look on Sam's face was the only answer I would need: he understood.

His hazel eyes told me in great detail how much he wanted me to stay, but how well he understood that I needed to leave.

"What do you want me to tell him?," Sam asked.

I shrugged.

"Remind him that he told me he was done with me."

Sam's head fell forward the slightest bit before he cleared his throat.

"Where are you headed?"

I smiled, for the first time, in what felt like days.

"Home, Sam. I'm goin' home."


	7. Chapter 7

Home wasn't where anyone would have expected. It was tucked away, in Dean's cabin, working in a small bookstore two towns over five days a week.

Home was waking up to the birds singing, the frosty air tickling my nose as I chopped firewood.

Home was solidarity, it was loneliness, it was contentment.

The first week away from Dean was easily the hardest week of my life. It took three days for Sam to call me, to tell me Dean was _cured;_ whatever that meant. In that seven minute and forty-seven second phone call Sam had asked me what Crowley had told me the night we'd met.

I told him that Crowley was confused, rambling about me being Dean's soulmate (although I avoided the truth which was that Crowley was most assuredly incredibly level headed as he'd told me this) but either way Sam had kindly thanked me and asked when I was coming back.

It had pained me deeply to explain that I wasn't coming back.

Even still, he'd whispered that he understood and asked that I dispose of Dean's old cell phone.

It had taken me a good long while to get around to turning that phone on, and when I had, I was surprised.

Photos of me, at least thirty of them, were saved and locked on Dean's little burner phone. Scrolling through them had hurt me more than words can say, but instead of deleting them I'd visited the general store and purchased a small memory chip to save them to just in case.

 _In case Dean ever wanted them?_

 _In case he ever came home?_

 _Right._

But Dean didn't come home, and as the weeks passed, I grew more and more comfortable in my own skin.

The bookstore I worked at was called _The Crow's Nest_ , and it was usually filled with hipsters and bookworms like myself.

Of course my reading list was much more...eclectic than the usual patron, being that since leaving the Winchester holding I had read about every supernatural entity I possibly could. I learned about anything I could get my greedy little hands on, and my respect for the brothers who I hoped with all my might were rekindling their partnership, seemed to grow tenfold.

Although, the yearning I felt for the eldest brother seemed to far outweigh anything else.

One week turned into two weeks, which apart from three brief calls from Sam, went by uninterrupted. When the seventh week rolled around, I knew that I was _better_. I understood Dean far more than I had before, but even better than that, I understood _me._

 _All of me._

What I'd wanted when I left Dean behind was to figure out who I was, what I wanted, what I _needed_.

I knew all of that now, and the joy I felt at being content was overwhelming; refreshing, perfect. And although the success I was feeling made me happier than I had been in years, and although Sam was kind enough to have someone help me garner an entirely new identity which freed me from my past _demons_ (pun intended) I was missing something vital.

I was missing someone vital, I should say.

But if anyone ever called me anything, stubborn would top that list. I knew that if I held out long enough, my mind and my heart would catch up and sooner or later (probably later) I would move on.

I wouldn't feel like I was incomplete without Dean and I was hoping for his sake that he was already moved on.

I was hoping he had forgotten all about me after he was cured and that in his head I was nothing but a fond memory.

 _I love him._

I wanted to be happy, and I was.

"Rosie, you have a visitor!," Laura, my boss, called from the back.

I sighed, stuffed the three books I was sorting into their respectful places on the shelf before me and stepped towards the front of the store.

I saw a tall form I'd recognize anywhere.

"Sam? What are you doing here?," I asked.

Sam turned to face me and I gasped.

"What happened to your face?!," I asked, reaching up to glide a finger along his split lip. His face was covered in purple and green swatches, all of which looked painful. He smiled down at me.

"You look great, Rosie."

I delicately cleared my throat and nodded towards the front desk where my boss was standing.

I took Sam's arm into my hand and led him outside, blinking furiously at the bright sunlight. I didn't see Dean.

 _We're safe._

"Please tell me you're okay."

"He thinks I'm gathering info for a case. I haven't told him where you are," Sam reassured me. I sucked in a deep breath and hugged Sam to me, relishing in the familiar scent of him that reminded me so keenly of Dean.

"But he's getting worse. He's going crazy without you, and the only thing keeping him from finding you is me," Sam said gesturing to his face. I frowned.

"When we talked on the phone a couple of weeks ago you told me he was moving on, that he was getting back into hunting," I said looking around to make sure we weren't being watched.

Sam nodded his head.

"He is. Crowley came to talk to him. Told him what you were _supposed_ to tell me."

I dropped my chin to my chest.

"I'm sorry I downplayed things. I'm just not used to such intense feelings or situations and the idea that I had an actual soulmate...I just figured out who I am, Sam. You and Dean needed your own time together, to repair your brotherhood. I didn't want to complicate things," I told him truthfully. He ruffled my hair, tugging on the shorter ends.

"You cut your hair. It looks good. Look, I get it-I do. I've had quite a few of my own soul searches, but can I be honest?"

I nodded.

"Dean needs you. He does. He doesn't realize it, and he's convinced himself he doesn't _deserve_ you...but he isn't right. He's always searching for you, even when he doesn't realize I know what he's doing. Will you consider coming to visit the bunker?," Sam asked me.

I turned away from the sun, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

"If I tell you I'll consider it, will you do me a favor?"

Sam nodded.

"I want to speak to Crowley. Can you make that happen?"

His eyes widened.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?"

I nodded my head and he pulled out his phone, something I thought was weird.

After listening to him mumble for a second I was surprised when a familiar face appeared before me

"You look marvelous, love."

Crowley's dark eyes appraised me slowly, making me frown.

"I need to ask you a question, if that's alright," I said softly.

Both Sam and Crowley were watching me intently.

"Why me?"

I was afraid he wouldn't understand, but it took less than a second for him to reply.

"Because you're you. I can see your soul exactly as it is, and it's precisely the right mixture of purity and fire that Dean needed. _Needs._ Have you heard of fate?"

I wrapped my hands around my hips.

"Yes."

"Then you understand everything is simply a well coordinated play-date. Dean needed to meet you at the precise moment I led you to him in order to recognize his humanity again. We almost lost him completely. He needed a little divine intervention," Crowley told me with a snicker.

He clasped his hands behind his back and tsked.

"Ya know, you've been a naughty lass. I do recall telling you that Dean would need you to be by his side upon being cured."

I rolled my eyes.

"Dean needed someone stronger than me in that moment. Are you two gonna gang up on me until I agree to come back with you? Because I gotta tell you, the whole good cop bad cop thing isn't working."

Crowley watched me silently for a moment before holding out a hand. Sam opened his mouth to argue but Crowley shook his head.

"Calm down, I don't want to hurt the lass. I want to _show_ her."

The entire world froze as my vision faded and I was no longer looking at Sam or Crowley- I was looking at _Dean._ He was standing tall, his legs spread apart, his face stricken with grief. He was staring at himself in a dirty motel bathroom mirror. His shirt was missing, and on display was his scarred torso. Around his neck hung his usual necklace, but something sparkly caught my eye.

 _My engagement ring._

 _He's wearing my engagement ring._

Dean met his own gaze in the mirror and he lifted his lip before slamming his palm Into the dirty glass.

I could see that he was bleeding, but he didn't seem to care.

He was too busy hating himself.

The Intensity of his emotions overshadowed me, overwhelmed me, drowned me for a moment before Crowley brought me back to reality, and I fell backwards into Sam's arms.

I opened my mouth to speak, but I couldn't. I couldn't say a fucking thing because Sam was _wrong._ Dean wasn't moving on; he was wilting. He was withering. He was fading.

"It's time to help Dean find _himself_ , lass. He can't do it without you."

I looked to my boss who was gesturing for me to come inside behind us and Crowley snorted before snapping his fingers.

When we stopped spinning in circles we were back at the bunker and Crowley frowned.

"He should be back tonight. Tell him I send my love," Crowley said with a saucy wink.

I opened my mouth to argue, but he was gone.

"You told me he was fine."

Sam scratched the back of his neck nervously.

"It wasn't my place to take away your free will. I knew if I told you the truth your guilt would bring you here. Dean didn't want that. He doesn't want to guilt trip you into coming back here."

I swallowed my fears.

"What does he want?"

Sam slipped off his suit jacket.

"He wants to know that after everything he's done, he can still be loved. You loved him. Then you left."

I winced at the honesty of his words and sighed.

The bunker was just as I left it, quiet and strange.

"Which room is his?"

Sam pointed to a closed door down the hall and I wandered towards it, pausing for only a moment before I pushed the closed door open and halted.

Dean's room was just as I expected.

Tidy, simple, manly.

Scattered on his desk were a few CD's a photo of presumably him and his father and brother, a momento here and there. I stepped inside, inhaling the spicy scent that belonged to him and _only_ him. The memories that surfaced in my head had me covering my mouth with my hand. His bed was made and spotless, so I sat down on the edge of it and fell backwards into the soft bedding. When my eyes met the ceiling, I paused.

Above my head, on the ceiling, was the small strip of photos Dean and I had taken together on our very last date when we went into together- the night Cole and him had fought in the alley behind the movie theatre in town.

I climbed onto my knees and gently tugged it from the ceiling, turning it over in my hands.

" _Rosie and me, best day ever,"_ was written on the back in his usual chicken scratch.

Tears filled my eyes and I laid back down, fisting the photos.

 _He remembers._

One of my biggest fears was that Dean would forget the moments I couldn't forget even though I tried.

That he _would_ move on, even though I'd hoped he would find better.

"Ya okay?"

I sat up to answer Sam.

"I'm okay. Feels weird, ya know? I don't really know this Dean, but I kind of do. I saw glimpses of him when we lived together."

Sam nodded and motioned towards the door.

"If you don't mind, I'm gonna head out. I need to do some research and I know you two are gonna need some privacy...," he trailed off and I nodded.

"Okay. Thank you, for respecting my privacy all this time. I know it wasn't easy for you, but I needed some time."

Sam smiled at me and nodded.

"I know. He does too. Be careful."

I looked down at the photos in my hands and bit my lip.

"I think we're past careful," I whispered to myself.

The doorway was empty then, and I could hear Sam's heavy footfalls as he left me alone. Lying here on Dean's bed made me think of all the sweet moments we'd shared together; moments I wouldn't take back ever. Moments that taunted me into the late night hours, that made it hard for me to look myself in the mirror.

 _Sam's right._

 _I left him._

 _How could I do that?_

Well, like the old saying goes, you can't love anyone if you don't love yourself. In my defense, it takes a special kind of woman to take care of a man like Dean Winchester, and how fair would it have been to him if I'd realized _after_ I made him any promises that I couldn't do it?

Chris had screwed me up so badly and slowly Dean had put me back together. I owed him for that.

He hadn't _made_ me fall in love with him though, and I'd fallen.

Hard.

With the pictures of us tucked safely in my grip, I rolled onto my side and looked around Dean's room. It was simple and clean, comfortable. Masculine.

I got the idea that Dean spent a lot of time in here, spent a lot of time hiding.

I didn't want him to hide.

I heard a rustle and turned to see a stranger staring at me with a surprised look on his face. I had no idea who this man was.

"Don't be scared, Rosalie. I won't harm you. My name is Castiel, I am looking for Sam...," He stopped talking all of a sudden.

"It's nice to meet you, Castiel," I said softly. I stood, extending my hand.

He wrapped it in his and yanked me forward, his bright blue eyes burning a hole into my face. I gasped, trying to move, but he held me fast.

"This is not a trick? You are _real?_ ," Castiel murmured more to himself than to me.

"Sam's mentioned you...I had no idea you were so friendly," I breathed as he released me. His brow was furrowed so ferociously I was afraid he'd crack his face right down the middle. Gently, so as not to startle him, I eased the wrinkle between his eyes.

"Are you alright, Castiel?"

"Your soul is white. Pure."

I smiled, pleased to hear that.

"Isn't that a good thing? From what I've read-," He shook his head.

"I am not implying it is _bad;_ in fact, from what I can see, you're well on your way to heaven. What is most confusing is that your soul is...well, identical to Dean's."

I clamped my mouth shut at that, not sure what to say.

"I don't know what that means."

Castiel shook his head again before he cocked it to the side.

"You smell of sulfur. Crowley sent you."

I swallowed my fear at the angry look in his eyes.

"Sam and Crowley sent me, yes. Crowley told me I'm Dean's-,"

"Soul mate. Yes, that is true. Does Dean know?"

I shrugged.

"I love him. We haven't talked about the rest."

Suddenly Castiel smiled, and wrapped his arms around me.

 _This is strange._

"That is good news. Dean deserves your purity."

I found myself laughing as Castiel pulled away from me.

"I must go. I was searching for Sam, and now I think I have found him. He is praying to me."

I nodded, waving my hand slightly. With nary but a blink in my direction he was gone, leaving me very confused and surprised. With a huff of breath I gathered that meant that Castiel approved of my being here, something that would mean a lot to Dean based on what Sam had told me over time.

The bunker held a foreboding feeling for me. I was excited to see Dean but scared just the same. I'd never encountered a _human_ Dean. I had no idea who I was dealing with, and apart from that heartbreaking invasion of his privacy performed by Crowley earlier I had no idea if he even _wanted_ to see me.

Wanting and needing were two very different walks of life.

Everyone kept saying that he needed me, but they never stopped to tell me if he _wanted_ to see me.

If he still wanted me at all.

If he still...well, if he _could_ still love me.

Everyone Dean had ever loved said goodbye to him in one way or another, and I didn't want to be another added on to a very long list; I'd just needed _a little fucking time._

I trekked through the bunker slowly. I saw the library come into view, the very room I'd fled from months ago. It was exactly as I'd left it; slightly disorganized, with an empty bottle of Whiskey resting on an abandoned table.

I headed for the bottle, turning it in my hands only to realize it was _the_ bottle- the very one I'd finished off before Dean was cured.

Setting it down gently, I turned to find the kitchen. Dean liked his alcohol, and if there was one bottle there were more.

The kitchen was small but efficient, and it took me no time at all to find a bottle. I opened it quickly, taking a sip as I dug around for a clean glass. Liquid courage sounded great, because as the minutes ticked by, I knew I was going to need it. Deciding now was as good a time as ever to just sit down and ready myself, I followed the same path that had brought me in here back to Dean's room. I turned on his radio, smiling at the sound of his favorite CD playing. The soft tunes of rock coursed through my ears and made memories flood my mind.

Good memories.

Sad memories.

I heard a soft click and shot up in Dean's bed.

 _He's here._

When his watery green eyes met mine, he slowly lowered his gun.

We didn't say anything to one another for a long time as his eyes roved over every inch of me. His lower lip trembled slightly as his intense gaze bathed me in shame and pain.

"Rosie?," He whispered, unsure.

I nodded my head.

He dropped the bag he was holding to the floor and took a step into his room.

 _So close, but so far away._

"What are- why are you here?," His gravelly voice asked me.

I dipped my head for a second, unable to meet his eyes.

"Sam came for me. Told me it was time to come back," I said honestly.

I took a moment to take in every detail of him I could. He had a short beard growing, dark circles painted under his eyes, a few scrapes and bruises- signs he'd found a fight on his latest case. His jeans were torn at one knee, his boots were covered in fresh mud. His t-shirt was wrinkled, his plaid was well worn and faded.

 _He's perfect._

 _My God, he's fucking perfect._

I sucked in a deep breath as he ran a hand through his already disheveled hair.

"Why'd he do that?," Dean almost whispered to himself.

"He told me you were lookin' for me. He told me you wanted to talk to me," I said.

Dean frowned, his lips pursing together as he nodded slowly. Then, like a switch was flicked, he shook his head.

"I don't think we got anythin' left to say to one another. I hope your new life makes ya happy."

Just like that, my heart broke all over again.

"Excuse me?," I asked, crawling very awkwardly from his bed. Dean's eyes shot to mine as I rounded on him.

"What?"

"That's it? I found out you were a _demon_ , Dean! A fuckin' _demon._ You don't think that warrants a small discussion? Crowley'll just keep bringin' me around if we don't resolve this now, so let's just save ourselves the trouble."

"You didn't seem to think so when you left me high and dry!," He spat in my general direction.

I winced.

His eyes narrowed and he cursed.

"Crowley? That son of a bitch!"

I snorted and rolled my eyes.

"Stop. Just- _stop._ Tell me what's going on in that head of yours, Dean."

His green eyes met mine, and for a second I was worried they would turn black but they stayed their turbulent green. He yanked his arm out of my grip and moved around me.

"I don't know what you expect of me, Rosie. You left. You ended whatever we had," Dean said over his shoulder as he picked up the pictures I'd been holding moments ago.

They were probably still warm.

He pocketed them and swore under his breath again.

"You told me if I left you down there, you were done with me. I had no idea what was going on. You can't hold leaving against me, it isn't fair! I had no idea who you were, _what_ you were. All I could do was watch you sit, chained to a chair, screaming things at me that you supposedly didn't mean," I argued.

Dean turned to face me, and for the first time _ever_ I saw the shame clearly written on his face. His mouth was tugged down into a fierce frown, his brow was furrowed deeply.

I saw that same heart wrenching agony that I saw in the vision Crowley had shared with me.

I fought my own tears as I bounded towards him and wrapped my arms around his neck in a tight grip. He let his arms fall to his sides as I gripped him and cried into the familiar crook of his neck. He didn't move to hold me, he didn't make a move to touch me in any way and it killed me.

"Wrap your fucking arms around me Dean, and don't you dare let go," I demanded thickly, snuggling in closer to him.

He wrapped his muscular arms around me shakily and buried his face in my hair.

We didn't say anything to one another as we held each other tightly, so tightly I could barely breathe. It felt like that vital piece of me that was missing was suddenly there again and I could barely handle it.

"Damn, I missed ya, baby."

 _There it is._

 _There's the Dean I know._

Pulling away just enough to press my mouth to his, I did, burying my hands in his hair.

He kissed me back, thoroughly, desperately.

His tongue swept into my mouth, his hands moved down to cradle my hips. I lifted myself up onto the tops of his boots, moving as close to him as I could. His fingers combed through my hair and he pulled his mouth away from mine long enough to whisper something about me cutting it.

"Yeah, I needed a change," I said pecking his mouth again. He kissed me once more before he ripped himself out of my arms. I watched, confused, as his stiff spine met my line of sight.

"I can't do this with ya, Rosie."

I froze.

 _No._

"What?"

 _No, no, no!_

He shook his head and I saw the glint of my engagement ring around his neck. I never realized until then how fitting it was that _Dean_ was wearing it; he was the only man I would ever want to marry. The only one I would say yes to.

"You deserve better than what I did to ya, you were right. It wasn't fair, and I hate that you had to go through that." He set the pictures he was still holding onto the nightstand next to his bed and turned to face me again.

 _He's saying one thing, but all of his actions contradict what he's saying._

Flashes of that stupid vision Crowley shared with me made themselves known and I knew then I couldn't contain my tears. When my face crumpled like an old Coke can, Dean's expression softened.

"Don't cry, baby."

"No! Don't do that- you don't get to call me that! Not now, when you're trying to push me as far away from you as possible," I said, cradling my forehead in my hands. I sucked in a breath.

"I don't get it. Sam's been calling me, he showed up at my job- why would he keep telling me I needed to come back here if you don't want me?," I cried, shaking my head in confusion.

"I never said I didn't _want_ ya. I said I didn't _deserve_ ya."

His soft tone caught me by surprise and I scoffed.

"You honestly believe that, don't you?"

His eyes narrowed.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Dean Winchester, you're the most stubborn man on the planet! It isn't up to _you_. If I want you, I want you and no matter how hard you push it won't change a fucking thing! I am _not_ Lisa!," I shouted, instantly covering my mouth with my hand as I realized the line I'd just crossed.

His narrowed gaze zeroed in on me.

"Who told you about Lisa?"

I shook my head, not wanting to out Sam.

"That doesn't matter. What matters is that the ever righteous Dean Winchester does not get to tell me who I'm gonna love! I left, _yes._ But you lied to me, and I didn't deserve that. I was open with you, honest with you, I was _vulnerable_ with you. I get that you weren't really you, but I loved you anyways. I needed time to figure out who I was before I came back here to conquer your world," I admitted.

Dean's entire demeanor changed as he dropped his hands to his sides and looked at his boots.

"You told me you were done with me," I choked out, hoping like hell he would finally say something.

"I didn't mean that, damn it! I may have kept out the part of me bein' a demon, but I never lied to ya Rosie. I meant every word I said. You were the only thing that kept me grounded," Dean told me. I wiped the tears from my cheeks.

"You told me you knew that I loved you and that you knew you didn't love me back, so why are you really upset that I left?"

Dean swore loudly before stacking his hands behind his head.

"I couldn't love you! I was soulless, damn it. But I _wanted to!_ "

I could see his walls finally coming down, and I took that as a good a sign.

"Tell me now, do you love me, Dean? If you say you love me then nothing else matters."

He sucked in a breath and looked me dead in the eye before he let out the breath he was holding and whispered the words that literally tore me apart inside.

His stubborn green eyes met mine, and he squared his jaw as he answered me gruffly.

"No. I don't love you."

Wow, there really was a feeling worse than death, and Dean Winchester had just delivered my final blow.


	8. Chapter 8

" _No. I don't love you."_

Those words haunted me.

Literally, they mocked me, repeated themselves five hundred times a day in my head.

Dean told me he _did not love me._

What the hell was all this bullshit about soul mates about then?

As much as I'd wanted to leave town, Sam convinced me to stick around for a little while. He told me he wanted to get to know me better. He told me he wanted to know the anchor for Dean's humanity, and while that didn't make a lick of sense to me (especially since Dean didn't want or need me like they thought) I rented a motel room in town and stuck around.

This was my third night in town, with only a glimpse of Dean here of there, and right now Sam was pouring me a glass of beer from the pitcher he'd ordered.

"Do you ever cut loose Rosie? You're wound tighter than an old clock. Relax, I won't let anything happen to you," Sam said softly as he slid my glass towards me.

Words of Dean's echoed in my head.

" _You should love someone like Sam. He'd take care of ya. He'd be good to ya."_

Like I was a toy that could be shared.

"You're right. I do need to loosen up. Sorry."

I waved over our server and when she arrived, apart from totally checking out Sam who was too busy with his phone to notice, I ordered two shots of tequila.

At the mention of hard liquor Sam's gaze met mine and he perked up.

"You drink tequila?"

I shrugged, downing both shots the waitress handed me, and ordered two more.

"You can have the next two Sammy-bo-bammy, I'm gonna hit up the juke box," I said with a cheesy grin. Sam gave me a look, a _what have I started_ look, and shook his head.

When I found a few songs I liked on the jukebox, I plopped in a few quarters and smiled when the old rock songs began playing. Sam looked at me over his shoulder, surprised.

"This is one of Dean's favorite songs."

I scoffed.

"Don't mention Dean tonight and I won't bring up Amelia. Got it?"

Sam touched his glass to mine.

"Touche."

I nodded and down another shot, relishing the warm fuzzy feeling that was working it's way into my system.

I caught the gaze of a handsome man across the bar, and when he realized he had my attention, he motioned towards the dance floor.

"I'll be right back," I said saucily, making my tipsy way over to the man who was smiling at me wickedly.

 _He doesn't look anything like Dean._

No, tall dark and handsome he was definitely the exact opposite of Dean, and I welcomed that.

"What's your name?," I asked.

"Nate. What's yours?"

"Rosie."

He smiled, taking my hand and leading me to the center of the dance floor. I caught Sam's thumbs up over Nate's shoulder and I sent him a wave.

Nate's hand were too soft, and his voice wasn't deep enough, but that didn't matter. His breath stunk of cheap beer and his hair was too long, but that didn't matter either.

My tattered ego ate him up like a fresh cupcake, and even though he wasn't my first choice, it felt good to _have_ a choice.

He spun me in a circle, causing me to giggle. He smiled at me sweetly.

"I like your laugh, Rosie."

I winked at him and he chuckled then, tucking me in close to his chest.

It wasn't as hard or wide as Dean's but it held me okay. It felt sturdy and that _did_ matter.

When the song ended, I peeked over at Sam who was watching me warily and on the phone.

"I've gotta go, Nate. Thanks for the dance!," I called over my shoulder as I made my way to Sam. He hung up just as I got there and I frowned at the look on his face.

"What's wrong?"

"Dean-he uh-,"

I held up my hand.

"If ya gotta go, then ya gotta go. I'll catch up with you later," I said.

Sam shook his head and his hazel eyes shot towards the doors of the club and I swore under my breath when I saw Dean step through over the threshold.

"Sam, you said it would just be me and you!"

Sam shrugged apologetically.

"He called me and said he had some info on the case we're working on! He probably won't stay-," I waved my hand and took another shot to calm my racing heart.

"No worries. I'll be over there talking to Nate," I said softly.

I turned before Dean could see me, and thanked the heavens above that I was wearing the sexiest outfit I owned. My skin tight red dress complimented my hair, which was curled to perfection and cascading down my back. My sky high heels were also red and adorned with jewels. My skin was tanned to a pretty honey color and my makeup looked better than it ever had.

Nate seemed surprised when I met him at his table, and I was greeted by more than one wolf whistle as I smiled at him.

"Care if I join ya?"  
He looked behind me at the table Sam and now Dean were occupying. I peeked in that direction too, thankful that Dean hadn't seen me yet.

"Sure," Nate said.

I smiled and ordered myself another drink, settling onto a stool next to Nate. He was very touchy-feely, always laying a hand on my back or my thigh. I knew that I shouldn't let him do it, but I was so lonely and so desperate for human affection that I let him.

When his friends regaled me with funny stories I tipped my head back and laughed harder than I had in a long time.

I noticed that Dean hadn't left after nearly a half hour and that he was quietly nursing a beer. When I saw Sam get up and head for the restrooms I excused myself from Nate's table and slyly followed him.

"Sam! _Sam!_ ," I called, causing him to turn. He couldn't keep his eyes from appreciating the dress I was wearing and I smiled at his blush.

"I thought Dean wasn't staying?"

Sam shrugged.

"He just said he wanted to unwind. Sorry Rosie...I can ask him to go?"

I shook my head.

He patted my shoulder, which was soft as satin, and left me watching him in the hallway. I sighed angrily, squared my shoulders, flipped my hair with a small fluff and decided it was time to face the music.

I walked back into the crowded bar, my back stiff. My heels made a loud clicking sound as I rounded the corner near my table. Dean's green eyes lifted instantly to mine, and the hunger that rose on his face was something I hadn't seen since he was damned and I was naive.

I heard someone calling my name and turned to see Nate and his friends waving me back over. I smiled, breezed past Dean, and sat down at their table again. Nate handed me a drink (which I knew better than to drink, so I casually waved to the bartender to refill my glass) and sank back into Nate's hold.

I could feel Dean's stare burning the skin off of my back and cringed inwardly.

 _He told me he didn't love me._

"Rosie? What do ya think?"

I looked at Nate who was smiling down at me, his perfect white teeth on display.

"Sorry, what did you say?"

He slipped his hand back down to my thigh, caressing me gently.

"I said do you wanna dance with me again? I'll play a slow one," He said with a playful wink. I laughed and nodded, following him to the dance floor. His touch wasn't rough enough and his hold was too gentle, but that didn't matter. The man that had broken my heart was sitting only feet away from me, watching me.

But I was trying to move on...

Nate brought me in close, and for a moment I let myself relax into his hold, let myself enjoy it.

 _This doesn't feel right._

 _He's not for me._

I pulled out of his hold, kissed his cheek gently and thanked him for the dance. I told him it was time for me to leave, and he smiled like he already knew that.

"You should tell that guy at your table I'm no threat, Rosie."

His words were sincere, and confused, I glanced over at my table where Sam and Dean were both watching me. Sam looked nervous and Dean was glaring at me so hard I felt bad for the bottle of beer he was about to crush with his bare hands.

"Sure thing."

Nate nodded and I stepped away from him, heading for Sam.

"I'll check ya later, Sammy. I'm gonna head out."

He frowned.

"Are you sure? Let me make sure you get back to your motel-,"

"I ain't headed there. Look, I gotta meet someone. Call me tomorrow, let me know you're safe."

His hazel eyes widened and he reached for me, but I stepped away. The stare Dean sent my way could have withered the garden of Eden.

I gently kissed Sam's cheek before nodding my head at Dean. With a breath, I steeled my spine.

"Bye Sam."

 _He looks like he knows it's for good._

 _Time to go, Rosie._

I rushed out the back door, looking both ways into the darkness before I called him.

My phone rang one time before he answered.

"What a pleasant surprise, love."

"Crowley, we need to talk."

I heard the familiar shift of the air behind me.

"About what? And may I say, you look absolutely ravishing."

(Dean POV)

She was a goddess. Here to test me, to tease me, to taunt me surely. I wanted to go to her, to ask her if she wore that sexy dress for me. To slide my hand between those tanned thighs and feel every inch of her.

 _But I gave her away._

 _I broke her heart._

She deserved better and a few beers wouldn't change that. Wouldn't change the fact that I was Shit compared to her, that she deserved someone who would worship her.

"Congrats man, you sent her literally running into someone else's arms."

I knew he was right.

"I didn't send her runnin' to dingle berry Dave over there," I said shortly.

Sam rolled his eyes and brought his beer to his lips.

"Say whatever you want but I know you better than you think. You're miserable and I know you love her- so why lie?"

I pierced Sam with a glare.

"You know me so well, you tell me."

Sam leaned closer to me, his hazel eyes far too wise.

"Because you're terrified that someone sweet like Rosie really _could_ love you. That would make her a liability. Someone else you'd need to care for and watch out for and that's your biggest fear, Dean. Losing someone you love. Losing control. Well guess what, Dean? You can't control everyone and you can't control Rosie. I can't believe you would hurt her the way you did just because you're scared," Sam chastised.

He was right and I hated it. I hated that he was right and I hated that the love of my life let dingle berry Dave touch her and that she left here looking absolutely gorgeous.

 _I'm a piece of shit._

"She's leaving soon. Told me this morning she was checking out of her motel room and going home," Sam said sadly.

"She won't take me back now. I ruined everything," I told him as I took a swig of my beer. The bitter liquid did nothing to quell the burning emptiness in the pit of my stomach.

"You keep tellin' yourself that Dean."

Sam frowned in my direction before he shook his head and slammed a fifty dollar bill onto the table.

"That's a lot for a couple of beers, Sammy."

"You're kidding, right? Rosie drank enough to fell a horse. Why did you think I wanted to walk her out?"

Dread filled my stomach instantly as I shot up from the table.

 _Something isn't right._

I blinked furiously, trying to make sense of the pounding in my head.

I remembered talking to Crowley in the alley behind the bar, asking him if there was any way he'd been mistaken about me and Dean. If there was any way I could release Dean from whatever hold I had on him, and of course, in true Crowley fashion he'd evaded direct answers and only told me half of the truth.

He'd patted me tenderly on the shoulder then, when I realized that in loving Dean Winchester I'd still managed to let him down, and offered me what he considered to be a good gig.

" _Come with me to hell, and I'll make you my queen Rosie. No strings attached, although I wouldn't mind plucking your strings a few times,"_ Crowley had told me with a leer and wiggle of his eyebrows. I'd politely declined before he disappeared and then...

Then what?

 _Think, Rosie!_

My hands were chained to a dripping pipe above me, and I knew Crowley hadn't done this. I could taste iron in my mouth, and my jaw was aching somethin' fierce.

"Ah, we're awake!," I heard.

 _I know that voice..._

Cole came into view then, and my blood ran cold.

"You remember me," He kneeled before me and smiled up at me, "Good. I remember you too."

My red dress was split up one thigh, leaving part of the material hanging down and periodically smacking the back of my thigh as I struggled. Cole ran the blade of his knife along the split in my dress and tsked.

"Sorry about that, hazard of the chase I guess. No worries. You're not the one I want, I want Dean. And I know if I tell him I've got his woman, he'll show up."

I dropped my chin to my chest and started crying then, shaking my head back and forth slowly. Cole nudged my chin up and I could see a glimpse of regret mar his irises.

"Don't cry, Rosalie. I don't want to hurt you."

I choked on a sob and lifted my gaze to his.

"You may as well just kill me, Cole. Dean doesn't love me. We aren't together anymore. He won't come for me."

I watched as Cole's eyes shifted to the floor beneath my dangling feet before he scoffed.

"You expect me to believe that?"

I choked out a breath between my tears.

"I wish that it wasn't true. You're married, you obviously have a family. Wouldn't it fuckin' kill you to wake up one morning and find out it was all a lie?," I whispered brokenly.

His glowing eyes lit to embers at that, and I could see the pity on his face.

"If you wanna hurt me, Cole, then do it. Dean won't show up for me. You shoulda taken Sammy again," I said with a mirthless laugh.

I let my head fall back, closing my eyes as Cole lifted his knife into the air between us.

"We'll see about that, Rosie."

I heard him dialing his cell phone and knew that in a matter of seconds I would hear Dean un-claim me for the second time, and that it would resonate within me deeply.

 _He don't love me._

 _He never did._

"I got your girl, Winchester. If you wanna see her alive again I suggest you meet me."

I could tell I was in an abandoned apartment building, but I had no idea where that building was located.

Cole looked at me pointedly as he spoke in hushed tones.

"I _really_ don't want to hurt sweet Rosie, here. But I will. Every ten minutes it takes you to get here, somethin' is gettin' sliced."

His chilling words had me shaking my head.

"Don't come Dean! Don't you fuckin' _dare!_ ," I screamed.

Suddenly, the prospect of Dean getting hurt far outweighed my fear for myself and I struggled against the chains holding me with all my might. All I managed to do was burn my wrists from the friction, something that made me hiss from between my teeth.

Cole tossed his phone onto a pile of weapons and I thought I saw him grimace.

"I'm tracking Dean as we speak. I figure I should warn you-his ETA is approximately forty minutes. I'm a man of my word, so I've got a timer going. You have eight minutes and thirty-seven seconds."

I threw my head back in frustration.

"Take me instead. Hurt _me."_

Cole frowned, his stern expression melting away.

"Why? Dean Winchester is a monster, Rosie- a _monster._ He deserves to die! But you? You're like pure driven snow, baby. Not a sin to your name."

I shook my head and groaned at the pain it brought to my throbbing wrists.

"Do you love your wife, Cole? Your child?"

He seemed surprised by my information.

"Yeah, I looked you up. When I found out Dean was a demon, I needed to understand. I needed to _know,"_ I said, more to the ceiling than to him as I looked towards the heavens above for help.

"You didn't know?"

"No, I didn't. I loved him, deeply. I loved him even after I found out, even though I just didn't understand. Comprehending the entire situation was easy, but it took months for me to _accept_ it. Just like you. Just like with your dad," I whispered.

I felt a boot connect with my thigh and cried out, my eyes flying open wide as my leg throbbed. I sucked in a shaky breath, trying my best not to scream. Cole's steel toed boots stomped on the floor heavily as he glared at me.

"Don't talk about my father! He was a _good_ man. Dean Winchester gutted him for the pure joy of it!"

I tucked my hair into the tender skin of my arm and cried loudly at the agony spreading through my body. I heard a steady _beep-beep-beep_ and turned to face Cole.

"Time's up, baby."

He lifted that long hunting knife towards me and I didn't even bother trying to argue with him; he was driven by pure anger, an emotion that could overshadow anything good in a man. I knew that first hand, and right now, Dean needed me to be strong.

 _He needs me._

 _Whether he wants to admit it or not._

I locked my jaw when Cole slid the blade of his knife along the bare thigh opposite from the one he'd kicked. With the precision any general surgeon would envy, he cut me. Not too shallow, not too deep- just enough to cause me pain, not enough to kill me.

"That should hold ya for another ten minutes, Rosie. I didn't want to have to do this, but Dean Winchester needs to pay."

For a moment I looked at the situation from Cole's perspective; imagined watching my father being murdered before my very eyes, and I understood. He believed that he _needed_ to do this to avenge his fallen father, and who was I to correct him?

Except, hurting me?

It was wrong.

"Do you like doing this?"

Cole's head snapped around and he yanked me closer to him by the chains holding me captive.

"No, I don't. But I've been training my whole life for this, Rosie. _My whole life._ I need to know that Dean Winchester has suffered as much as I have!," Cole growled. I closed my eyes at the vitriol in his voice, turning my head away as he pushed me away from him violently.

I wasn't sure which Cole to believe; the one that said he didn't want to hurt me, or the one that clearly enjoyed this game.

That fucking steady _beep-beep-beep_ was singing behind him, and as he lifted his phone to silence and reset the timer he pulled a bigger knife from his duffel and faced me. My eyes rounded at the sight of it, but he tsked.

"Be a good girl. Scream for me, I want Dean to hear you by the time he gets here," Cole said menacingly. I sucked my bottom lip into my mouth, determined not to make a peep. Cole ran a shaky palm along my abdomen, his dirty but blunt nails scraping against the soft material of my dress.

"Hold on to those chains tights, baby. This one's gonna hurt," Cole said.

He slid the serrated blade along the dress, slicing it open, before he put the blade to my skin.

Looking up into my eyes, he quickly yet expertly swiped the blade across my skin, causing white spots to cloud my vision as my nerve endings surely fried themselves.

 _I can't keep quiet._

 _I'm gonna scream._

 _I'm weak._

Miraculously apart from a harsh gasp, I was able to keep silent. Cole's eyes narrowed, his cold glare sending chills down my aching spine.

"Very admirable, but this can only end one of two ways. I'm running out of interesting places to cut you, Rosie. Either I kill Dean, or I kill you in the meantime."

I was breathing so shallowly I was practically panting, so with a sad smile, I looked up at him.

"Then do it. Without Dean, I ain't got nothin' left anyways," I admitted.

Cole huffed under his breath and brought my chin up.

"Layin' my hands on you don't make me feel like a real man, Rosie."

"It always makes men feel superior. So go ahead, Cole Trent. Give me your worst," I snarled.

With a fist that felt like a freight train colliding with my skin, he struck me. I knew instantly that my nose was broken, but besides furiously blinking away tears, I didn't stop him.

I could see the indecision reigning supreme in his eyes, but he shook it off with a grunt and readied himself for another blow.

Instead, his phone dinged behind him and he smiled viciously.

A switchblade made an appearance before me, and Cole began to circle me. Blood oozed from my open mouth, from my broken nose as I followed him with my hazy gaze. "I'll let you pick from two spots on your body, Rosie. Where should I cut you next?"

I didn't make a sound, and I honestly don't think I could at this point- my face ws practically dancing it was throbbing so hard.

I was trying to stay awake, trying to focus on Cole's voice.

 _Dean needs me._

 _I can't leave him again._

"No input? Fine, achilles tendon it is!"

When that sharp blade cut through my ankle like butter I did cry out then; long and loud, but I was counting. In my head, Dean was about ten minutes away. Les if he was driving fast, which I knew he was, which meant I could sleep soon.

I could let go soon.

I could hear the blood seeping from my wounds, I could feel is sliding down my skin and trickling from my bare toes.

"That was beautiful, sweetheart. You can really carry a note," Cole said softly.

His green-blue eyes met mine and I licked my bloody lips to say something.

"What's your wife's name?"

He frowned at that question.

"Why does that matter?"

"Have you ever laid your hands on her in anger? My ex-fiance tried to kill me. He left me for dead in the middle of a forest, bleeding out in the fresh snow. Have you ever hurt your wife like that?," I whispered.

Cole grabbed my wrists by the chains and shook my gruffly.

"Don't talk about my wife! Don't ask me about my family. That ain't none of your business, Rosie."

I tried to smile, but my face hurt too badly.

"But you stole me away with the intent to hurt me. I'm none of _your_ business."

He shook his head, running a hand through his hair.

The smell of iron was growing stronger by the second, and then, the lights went out.

I wanted to cry with relief, because that meant that Dean had found me. I didn't think he'd come, but he was here, and I wasn't going to die.

 _Maybe._

 _I've lost a lot of blood, and I'm so tired._

I closed my eyes, listening to the sounds around me. Heavy footfalls on the stairs, the obvious sound of a gun cocking, Cole's pants rubbing together as he got into position. It wasn't too dark that I couldn't make out the form of Sam as he came around the corner, but that meant that Cole could see him too.

"Stop right there, Sam."

Sam froze, his arms resting above his head.

"Drop your gun and kick it over here," Cole demanded.

Sam did as he was told, dropping the gun onto the ground while keeping his hands above his head.

Sam's eyes met my feet first and traveled up my form, widening as they went. I shook my head slightly trying to tell him that I was okay- I didn't need Dean distracted.

I didn't need to lose him anymore than I already had.

I heard another set of boots on the stairs and there was Dean. He looked like an angel to me, all fierce and out of breath.

"Cole. Look, I know I wasn't the nicest guy the last time we met-,"

Cole laughed, flipped off the safety on his gun.

"Stuff it, Winchester. I know all about your kind. I know all about the evil things you creatures do in the dark of the night- like killing my old man!"

Dean shook his head, but at this point it was getting harder and harder to stay awake. Sam was slowly inching closer to me, but it didn't matter. I could barely see him.

 _I'm scared of the dark._

My tiny feet were useless as I hung there lifelessly, my long hair tucked underneath my ribcage, dripping with fresh warm blood.

Sam's worried eyes met mine, and I tried to wave my hands at him, but that only caused the chains to jingle slightly.

"What was that? Sam? Ya found Rosie?"

Dean threw this question over his shoulder as him and Cole began to fight in front of us.

"Dean-man-,"

Sam got to me then, but he couldn't get the chains undone. There was only one way he was going to get these chains off of me without the key- and that was to shoot the lock off. We both realized that at the same time, so I tried to whisper that it was okay.

 _I was fine._

 _I was_ _ **fine.**_

Sam tried to argue, but Dean was fighting so loudly behind us that all Sam could do was lay a gentle palm on my back to comfort me.

I couldn't feel it, and I didn't take that as a good sign, but Dean needed me to be strong.

 _He needs me, he needs me, he needs me._

I tried to keep my mind clear, I tried to convince myself everything was going to be okay, but I didn't know that.

This time, I did not know that.

Dean finally held a gun on Cole and Cole stopped fighting. He held his hands up in defeat, his gaze straying to me. I just stared back at him, I had no words to say- I understood why he'd hurt me, but I wouldn't ever forget it.

His eyes clouded with what looked like tears in the pale moonlight, but just as soon as they arrived they were gone.

Dean was so busy talking Cole down that he hadn't realized I was trussed up like the Thanksgiving Day turkey I'd made last year for the holiday.

With a harsh breath and words I couldn't really hear, Cole was sent packing.

I watched as he left, defeated, lost, and without his weapons.

Dean's shoulders sagged with relief, and I figured that the mark on his arm was practically burning with the urge to kill him, but for Dean this was a win.

That meant that for me as well, this was a win.

When all was quiet, Sam cleared his throat.

"Dean. I need your help. Now."

Dean turned quickly, his green eyes searching the darkness until they landed on me.

"Oh my- _baby!_ ," He cried gruffly, his gravelly voice echoing around me.

"We need the key, or we're gonna have to shoot her down. These chains aren't a joke."

Dean seemed torn between the urge to touch me and cry, so I cleared my throat.

"Someone go turn the lights on, I'm scared of the dark."

My voice cracked, and Dean swore under his breath as he ran towards the stairs.

The lights came back on too soon and I closed my eyes to ward off the brightness, but Sam's sharp inhale of breath was all the answer I needed.

"Damn it, Rosie! You're worse off than you let on. Why didn't you say anything?," Sam demanded, his large hands coming to hold me up. I gasped, trying to edge away from his hold.

I heard those familiar boots on the stairs and looked up in time to see Dean's eyes widen.

"Baby...," His voice trailed off and I felt my lower lip quiver.

"Get me down, _please_ ," I cried out.

Now that Dean was here, now that I could see him, the fact that I'd almost died hit me.

Hard.

Dean's green eyes met mine and for a second I thought maybe he was going to cry.

But he didn't.

He pulled out his gun, aimed it directly at the ceiling, and after a loud _boom_ I fell directly into Sam's arms.

Sam caught me fast, cradling me to his chest.

"I can't walk. He sliced my left achilles tendon," I said scratchily. Sam made to lift into his arms, but Dean stopped him.

He looked directly into my eyes before he wrapped me up into his embrace, tucked safely against his chest. I let my head rest on his shoulder as he looked around the room and carried me up the stairs.

"I'm gonna call Cas. Don't worry baby, I'm gonna get ya fixed."

"I only screamed once, Dean. I was strong for you," I whispered into the crook of his neck. As he laid me out in the backseat of his beloved Impala, he tenderly moved the hair out of my face.

"I'm so proud of ya, baby. You did good," He whispered. I tried to smile. But I was tired.

I was too tired.

 _This feels familiar._

"Don't you close your eyes, Rosie! Damn, speed it up, Dean!"

I could hear Dean calling for Cas as he sped down the abandoned highway, his deep voice soothing the ache in my soul.

It was like a movie in slow motion, there was a lot of screaming and white lights before I finally descended into the black.

And ya know what?

I wasn't even scared of the dark anymore.


	9. Chapter 9

(Dean POV)

She wasn't moving. I knew she was alive, I could see the steady rise and fall of her chest...but she was still.

Like Snow White in her glass casket, she lay like a statue in my bed.

Sam tried to convince me to leave her be, to let her sleep, but the thought of ever leaving her side again tore me to pieces.

I hadn't planned on sticking to her like glue.

Sam was right about what he said in the bar, but I was too damn stubborn to take it to heart. I would've let Rosie walk right out of my life because I thought she deserved better.

I thought she deserved to have a normal life.

Then, after Cas had wrapped Rosie up in his heavenly embrace and healed her, Crowley of all people had shown up.

Fuming mad at me for letting 'sweet little Rosalie' get hurt, he informed me that she'd been to see him.

He told me all about their conversation, all about how she'd asked him to set me free... _as if._

As if I ever could be set free, but then, she didn't know that did she? She had no idea that I loved her so freakin' much it literally _hurt me_ to see her lying lifeless in my bed.

She had no idea that the only time the nightmares stayed at bay, was when she was curled up next to me.

She had no idea that I hadn't been able to sleep, or eat, or let my eyes close _once_ since she'd been gone.

She had no idea that everything about her completed everything about me.

 _She just had no idea._

I knew running from something as inevitable as my soul mate was stupid. I didn't love Rosie because fate told me to, I loved her because of who she was.

And wasn't that the Winchester curse?

Loving something so much that you eventually ruin it?

I didn't want to ruin Rosie, I never wanted to hurt her. Everything got so messed up when what I _did want_ was really simple.

Her.

I just wanted her.

Now I knew she'd never forgive me, but I had to try.

Sitting here with her old engagement ring twirling on my finger, I wondered for the millionth time what she'd look like as my bride.

Wearing a pristine white gown that would only be appropriate for someone as pure as her.

It wasn't a fantasy I allowed myself to indulge in seriously, because why would she want to marry me?

I was a ticking time bomb, I didn't have anything to offer her, and she was so damn beautiful she could have any man she wanted.

 _But she knew me._

She knew me better than I wanted anyone to know me but it didn't bother me.

It felt good to know that for at least one person on this entire freakin' planet I didn't have to hide.

I wanted to tell her how I felt so badly my hands were shaking but she remained asleep.

I wouldn't hold her to our bond, the sacred one, the fated one- I wanted her to be happy.

And if that meant leavin' a salty bastard like me behind, then that's exactly what I wanted her to do.

My head was fucking pounding.

I peeled my eyes open with all the strength I could muster and sighed with relief when I saw the same stash of pictures smiling down at me from Dean's ceiling.

That meant I was alive.

I felt along my skin, making sure I wasn't dead and that this was _real._ I couldn't find any wounds, which caused me to shoot up in bed like a firework.

The bunker was quiet apart from what I perceived to be the hushed tones of a television, and it smelled like freshly made food. My stomach grumbled and I patted the soft flesh there, wondering where the giant gash went.

 _Am I really alive?_

I was busy pulling the blankets off of me, hurriedly checking to see if my ankle was healed too, when something sparkly caught my eye. _Why am I wearing my engagement ring again?_

I looked at my ring finger, bewildered, when I heard someone coming towards Dean's room.

I lurched out of his bed onto wobbly feet and saw Sam poke his head in. He looked surprised to see me awake and smiled wide, heading right for me. He wrapped me up into a hug and squeezed me a little too tight.

I was still tender where I should have been injured, but the happy expression on Sam's face made me hold my tongue.

"How are you feeling? Do you need anything?"

There was only one thing I needed.

Tears filled my eyes instantly, causing Sam to hold me tightly against him as the effects of last night made themselves known.

 _I'm fucked up._

 _Cold was going to kill me._

Cole.

 _He's still out there, lurking- waiting._

"Dean," I managed to choke out.

Sam tucked a strand of hair behind his ear.

"Go easy on him, will ya? He's ready to sell his soul all over again if it means you'll forgive him," Sam said quietly.

 _What does that mean?_

I nodded and Sam disappeared.

I turned to face the bed, biting my bottom lip so hard I could almost taste iron.

 _Again._

 _Oh god, that man tortured me._

Tears pricked the backs of my eyes when I remembered just how ready I'd been to give up my life if it meant that Dean would be okay.

 _He doesn't love me._

 _Why did I do that?_

I felt along the perfect bridge of my nose, a part of my anatomy that had been smashed only hours ago.

Castiel must have healed me.

 _Poor angel, I know even he can't heal everything._

 _He can't fix this._

 _He can't fix my heart._

I needed to remember to thank him.

I heard familiar footfalls behind me, but I didn't turn around right away.

"Baby?"

Just like it always had, that pet name had a solid warmth spreading through my insides like it was always mean to do so.

I turned around, surprised to see Dean watching me with a worried gaze.

"Hi."

Dean paused, choked out a gasp, and nodded his head.

"Hi," He replied.

Still worrying my bottom lip, I shrugged my narrow shoulders and watched as Dean stepped into the room and closed the door behind himself. He flicked the lock and it made me nervous, but I had to remember that Dean wouldn't hurt me.

"I got a lot to say to you, baby. Will you sit for a second so I can...get it out?," Dean asked me.

 _What now?_

 _More, 'I don't love you, sucks but it's true?'_

I nodded, slipping into his bed again, discreetly wrapping myself in his scent as I burrowed deeper into the covers.

"I lied. I was wrong. I keep seein' ya in my head, hangin' like a sack of meat because of me and I'm _sorry._ I never should have let that happen to ya," Dean said gruffly.

He was pacing at the foot of his bed, one hand on his hip and the other running through his hair. His green eyes sparkled in the lamplight.

He was fragile.

He was hollow.

He completed me.

"I would have done it all again, Dean. It wasn't your fault."

He scoffed, shaking his head.

"Bull. It was my fault! Do you know what I woulda done if you'd died? Do you have any idea what that woulda done to me?," He asked me.

His green eyes met mine and he dropped his hand from his hair.

"I guess you don't, do you? Because I never _told_ you," He said gesturing wildly towards me. I sat up a little straighter at that.

"I screwed this up so bad, I know ya won't forgive me. I know that ya can't-and why would you? I broke your heart, I...gave ya away. I never intended to lead you on, Rosalie. That ain't like me, tell me you believe me," Dean pleaded, his tormented eyes landing on me and remaining there.

I swallowed my pride, completely aware of how Dean was falling to pieces and I would have rather hang _myself_ up on a rusty pipe again that watch that happen. That mark on his arm was practically glowing, and I knew just how tenuous Dean's grip on his own reality was.

"I forgive you, Dean."

His head snapped sideways, his gaze shifting warily over me.

"No."

I sat up, wincing at the tender pull of my muscles.

"Yes, Dean. I get it. You don't...you don't love me back. Does it hurt? Fuck, yes, it always will. You're it for me. But I want you happy, and at the end of the day I couldn't do that for you," I said softly, my voice cracking near the end.

I dipped my head, looking at my ring finger again.

 _Why am I wearing this?_

 _Is Dean giving it back to me?_

The thought literally pierced my heart like Cole's blade.

Dean shook his head vehemently.

"I love you, Rosie. I'd call Crowley here right now if it means I could have you, but that ain't fair to ya. I know that-,"

"You sold your _soul_ to a _demon_! Is that what Sam meant? Dean, you died...You went to hell, Crowley mentioned it to me...," I ran my hands over my face, finally understanding just how deeply Dean was troubled, and how much he meant his apology.

 _Not on my life, baby._

 _I wanna keep your soul all to myself._

"Are you giving me my ring back because you're done with me? I know you were wearing it," I said harshly.

I slid off of the bed, rounding on him.

He remained silent as he watched me through disturbed emerald eyes, his muscles twitching slightly as I cupped his stubbled cheeks in my palms.

"No. I wasn't givin' you away a second time."

His words made me smile.

"I love you, Dean. I know that when you lay your head down at night it weighs heavily on your shoulders; you need to let the past go. You're fighting a war you don't have to fight alone."

He closed his eyes shamefully.

"You don't know the whole story."  
"You're wrong. I know everything. You think I didn't leave here and do my research? Your biggest enemy is yourself, baby. I wouldn't let you sell your beautiful, _beautiful_ soul. Never again. Don't you get it yet? You don't have to hide with me, Dean. Not your job, your past, not your struggles- I'm _here for you."_

I was breathing harshly from my efforts to contain my tears, and Dean seemed to realize that because he placed his calloused palms over my hands on his cheeks and turned his lips into my left palm.

"Hearing you say that makes me feel so much better, baby. I can't- I don't know how to tell ya. I ain't that good with words," Dean muttered.

I nodded my head sadly, but he judged my chin up and planted a tender kiss to the tip of my nose.

"But if you'll let me, I'll spend every day I can tryin', Rosie."

"I don't want you to change your mind again, Dean. I couldn't stand it," I choked out, shaking my head. He coughed out a strangled noise and shook his head.

"I ain't changin' my mind about this, baby. I gave ya that ring for a reason."

I froze, glancing at the thing wrapped around my finger. It was a huge diamond, something my mother was far too happy to show to every one of her friends.

"I ain't ever gonna be able to afford somethin' that fancy, and if ya don't wanna wear it I understand. I just- I thought, _maybe_ , you could wear it...for me," He said in a rush, sucking in a deep breath as he watched me intensely. I stood stock still, my hands still wrapped around his cheeks.

"Ya wanna...marry me?"

Dean smiled, a beautiful blinding smile that made the beautiful crinkles near his eyes appear.

Slowly, as if this moment was in slow motion, Dean sank down to one knee before me.

I opened my mouth to speak, but Dean pulled my left hand to his mouth reverently and kissed each knuckle.

I swallowed my protests when I saw this behemoth of a warrior bite his lip nervously.

"I'm so freakin' nervous, baby. I've been thinkin' of all these romantic ways to ask ya this, and none of them seem to fit," He admitted.

I ran a hand through his hair, and he leaned into the caress.

"You mentioned to me that you weren't Lisa, and you're right. What you and I have is consistent, there ain't no question about that. I can come home to you and I know you can handle it, I know you'll take care of me before yourself. You've proven that too many times."

Dean's voice cracked as he looked down at the ring on my hand for a moment and I sucked in a breath, twin streams of tears marking my flushed cheeks.

"I don't _need_ ya to do that, but it's who you are. You're sweet, kind, thoughtful. You're beautiful, and my god do you make me happy. _Happy,_ baby. I ain't never gonna have the apple pie life I dreamt of as a kid, and I know you deserve that. You deserve kids, the picket fence, the whole nine but I just can't live the rest of my live without knowin' I _at least_ tried to keep you," He told me.

I nodded my head, trying to keep the excitement from literally bowling me over, but Dean wasn't done yet.

"I don't know what this mark has in store for me, but I know that I can handle it if you're here. By my side. We don't ever have to get married, but if you'll just- stay, I wanna give you _everything._ I can't afford everything though, all I got is my last name and that car out there, but if you'll just say _yes-,"_ I choked on a happy sob and nodded my head.

"Yes, yes, yes," I murmured, leaning forward to kiss him.

He wrapped his hands in my hair and kissed me back, his tongue sweeping into my mouth to touch mine. I moaned at the contact, something I hadn't realized I'd been craving.

"I can't give ya a big weddin', baby. I can't give ya a big house or- or normalcy-,"

I kissed him again, pulling him to his feet.

"I don't _care,_ Dean. All I care about, is you."

His smile overtook his whole face.

"We can have a small wedding, here," I said against his mouth as I kissed him back in an effort to show him how much I loved him and appreciated his sweet, honest, words. He wrapped his strong arms around me and pulled me into his body. The sensations felt amazing, they felt right, and for the first time in _years_ I wasn't afraid to let a man touch my naked body.

"Hate to interrupt, but I would love to offer my services," We both heard. I yelped, jumping away from Dean only to see Crowley himself smiling like a pervert in my direction.

"What the hell, man?," Dean swore.

"Now now, before you get to bitin' my head off, I would like to offer my services for your future...nuptials," Crowley said smirking. I giggled and Dean looked at me like I was crazy.

"How so? And how long have you been listenin' ya creepy son of a bitch?," Dean asked as he swept me into his arms once more.

Crowley tsked and shook his head.

"I would like to perform the ceremony that will bind you in _holy_ matrimony."

It made laugh to hear Crowley put such an emphasis on the word 'holy' and Dean looked at me questioningly.

"May as well have all hands on deck," I murmured.

Crowley winked at me.

"There's a good girl. See? She's fine with it, ya big oaf. I'll be back when you call me. Adios!," He called as he disappeared.

Just then, a big head popped through the door and Sam was grinning from ear to ear.

"Do I hear...wedding bells?"

Dean groaned and buried his face in my neck.

 _So..._

 _We're getting married._


	10. Chapter 10

Enjoy the last chapter!

Epilogue to come

Dean bounced onto his bed, his wide smile meeting my eyes as I giggled. He was wearing his Fed threads, and I'd never seen him so happy.

"We're hitched, baby. Ya ain't gettin' rid of me now," He said with a smirk in my direction. I thought back to our personal and intimate ceremony that had taken place right in the backyard of our cabin. With only Crowley, Sam, Cas, a lovely girl named Charlie, the spirit of a spry man named Bobby, a very sweet man named Chuck, and of course Dean and myself in attendance the ceremony was perfect.

It was a sunny day, a warm day, and the breeze brought with it the soft scent of heather and lilac. When Sam had walked me down the aisle, Dean had turned to face me and his smile had faded quickly. At first I'd thought he was disappointed with my long wavy hair threaded with little purple flowers, but when Sam had leaned in and told me I looked perfect, I saw Dean's eyes glint in the sunlight. He wasn't disappointed; he was awed. His green eyes were shining brightly with unshed tears, and when I reached out my hand towards him the crinkles around his eyes appeared as he smiled at me like it was the first time he was ever seeing me.

There were quiet murmurs as Crowley told us to ready our vows to be shared. They were short and sweet on both sides, because Lord knows Dean was a man of few words, but the simple promise was prominent from both of us: I won't leave.

With the cheers filling the air around us, we'd kissed, Dean bending me over his forearm to kiss me deeply and romantically.

The birds had chirped in sync with my happy tears, and I was absolutely elated in that moment.

"Baby? Why ya smilin' like that?," Dean asked from behind me, his fingers working at the buttons that lingered on the back of my neck. I startled, leaning back into him as I sighed.

"I'm happy. Thank you."

"No, _thank you._ You came back for me. No one has ever come back," He whispered against my hair as he inhaled deeply and kissed the tender skin below one earlobe. The words hung in the air between us like a rain cloud and I inwardly cringed. The truth was a terrible thing, a _real_ thing.

 _No one has ever come back._

My simple dress that hung to the floor in layers of silk fell forward as Dean freed the buttons holding it in place. I caught it with my hands, smoothing the cool material down my front.

Dean stepped away from me and I caught his eye. He scratched the back of his neck, peeking at me from beneath his long lashes.

"We never...talked about this part," He said cautiously. I blinked.

 _We'd never talked about sex._

 _Oh my God._

I cleared my throat and let the dress fall to the floor at my freshly painted toes.

Dean's eyes widened as he slowly appraised me with his sexy bedroom gaze.

Starting at my little red toes and moving to my fishnet clad thighs, his eyes strayed towards the lace thong and garter belt I was wearing and only widened further when they finally met my transparent bra. I stepped out the dress silently, crossing my arms across my chest.

This was the part I'd dreaded.

Dean had held me, sure, he'd _seen_ me.

But never in the light.

Never had he seen the scars that lined my body, I hadn't had the guts to show him. Of course, those green eyes weren't trained on the raised areas of scar tissue I was so ashamed of.

Instead of saying something, anything, Dean stepped towards me and gently pulled my arms away from my body.

"Don't hide from me, baby. You're the most...beautiful thing I've ever seen," He said softly.

I blushed and he smiled, reaching behind me to gently tug my hair out of it's loose braid and pluck the flowers out of my hair.

His gaze didn't leave mine as he dropped the flowers to the floor. I nibbled on my bottom lip as my wavy hair fell forward. Dean's skilled fingers threaded through the tresses.

"You're so perfect. What the hell do ya seen in a man like me?," He murmured as he pressed a kiss to the edge of my mouth.

He didn't seem to mind that my body was imperfect or that I wasn't his usual type- the bleached, fake, _bimbo_ type. I was natural, soft, uncomplicated.

What I wondered, was what the hell a strong, courageous man like Dean Winchester saw in a wallflower like _me._

"Don't say that," I murmured, pressing my mouth to his. His soft lips came to life beneath mine and I sighed into his mouth. His strong hands fell to my waist as he wrapped his arms around me.

Too much.

He was wearing too much clothing.

"Off, please," I whispered.

Tugging on his arm, I helped him strip out of his shirt and pants. His tie fell to the floor in a gentle spiral, landing on top of his wrinkled shirt. His skin was warm and familiar beneath mine, his palms calloused and rough just like they'd always been.

It still marveled me, how such gruff hands could touch me so softly.

So _tenderly._

Wrapping my fingers around his jaw I heard his sharp intake of breath when our tongues touched. Like a strike of lightning between us, the heat grew to an overwhelming crescendo. Dean's teeth chased the fear right out of me as he nibbled on my bottom lip as his fingers followed the lines of my garter belt right around to the curve of my ass. His hands cupped my skin firmly, hoisting me up against him, bringing our bodies closer than ever before.

His cock was hard against my stomach, his chest was heaving with the breaths he was struggling to take. As heat pooled between my thighs, his skin was sticky beneath my fingertips.

One hand buried itself in my hair and I felt a powerful yank that made me yelp and Dean smirk as his mouth traveled along the lines of my neck, sipping and biting and nibbling as they went.

"You're so fuckin' sexy," He breathed, his teeth finally yanking my earlobe into his wet mouth.

I shuddered, wrapping my hands around the back of his neck and arching into him.

His hard body was wrapped around me like an old afghan, smothering me in his scent.

With a snap of his wrist, Dean had my garter belt removed. It fell to the floor next to my feet, making no sound as the lacy material got tangled up next to us. Dean watched me closely as his hand snaked into my panties, drawing a gasp from me.

"Damn, you're wet for me, ain't ya baby?"

I could only moan as his skilled fingers ghosted over my tender flesh.

Finding their way inside of me, two of Dean's fingers threatened to make me see stars.

I cried out his name, writhing against him as his tongue melted against the warm caverns of my mouth. With no effort at all he lifted me into his arms and carried me to his bed, _our bed,_ laying me down gracefully.

His green eyes were so hazy his pupils were near gone, but their intense color only seemed brighter in the dim lighting.

I watched, mesmerized, as Dean slid out of his boxers.

As if he was afraid to touch me, he lifted one small foot into his hands, and gently pried one of my thigh highs off.

My hands fisted in the bed beside me as he removed the other one, tossing it over his shoulder before he leaned forward to press a kiss to the sole of my foot.

Words weren't needed when our eyes met again.

I could see plainly how much he loved me.

I sat forward and pressed a kiss to his abdomen, which bunched beneath my lips. I loved the hissing sound he made as I wrapped my hand around the length of him and gave him one solid stroke. I moved to wrap my mouth around him, but he stopped me.

Pushing me back gently, he shook his head.

"Tonight's about you, baby."

I wanted to argue, but he stopped me by climbing over me and pressing a kiss to the swell of my breasts.

With a precision that made me slightly nervous he removed my bra completely before sucking a pebbled nipple into his mouth. I gasped his name, buried my hands in his hair, and moaned as he sucked and loved on my body. Moving from one breast to another he made damn sure that pulse between my legs was throbbing.

He removed my panties.

 _Yes, yes, yes._

"How ya feelin'?," Dean whispered as he moved south, his tongue dipping into my belly button.

I breathed his name like it was the last ounce of oxygen I would ever get.

"Don't stop," I pleaded, my fingers tugging harshly on his sandy locks.

He grinned up at me, shaking his head.

"Believe me, baby, I don't plan to."

That grin made my pussy clench in a way I'd never felt before.

Dean dipped his tongue into my wet folds and I thought I would explode.

Heaving, I cried out, palming the sheets beside me.

He didn't stop though, no, he wrapped my thighs around his face and dug in like _I_ was his last supper.

Like I was a delectable dessert, and he was a starving man.

Like he was back in hell and my pussy was the only thing that could save his tainted soul from eternal damnation.

"I love you," I moaned, shaking my head back and forth as what would most likely be the most intense orgasm of my entire life crested beneath my fevered flesh.

I felt the tingles start in my knees and work their way upwards as my mouth fell open and said orgasm threatened to ignite my whole world into flames.

My spine stiffened, pressing me harder into Dean's face.

 _Oh..._

 _My..._

"Mm, wait for me, sweetheart," Dean whispered, spreading my trembling thighs wider. Sliding two fingers into my pussy, he extended the length of my orgasm by who knows how long as he let me ride it out on his practiced fingers.

When it was over, and I was positive I had nothing left to offer him, he pressed his cock inside of me and a whole new dizzying sensation threatened to overtake me.

He fit inside of me so perfectly.

He dropped his forehead to mine and kissed me deeply, his rough fingers gliding over my skin. He cupped my cheeks in his hands as he thrust inside of me over and over, whispering sweet nothings in my ear that sounded a lot like promises that he'd fulfill or die trying.

"Tell me ya won't leave me again," He whispered into my mouth.

Wrapping my legs around his waist, I shook my head fervently.

"Never. _Never_ ," I vowed, kissing him hard.

He didn't seem to mind, no, because he was grinding his hips against mine and pressing me down into the mattress, hitting my g-spot just right.

"You're it for me," He said softly, kissing me.

I didn't know what to say; I had no idea how to tell him he was my everything.

"I love you," I told him fiercely, accepting his lovemaking like it was what I craved.

My sustenance.

My life-force.

He was my life-force.

I felt another orgasm crash through me, making me quake against Dean.

He wrapped his arms tightly around me as his thrusts became hard and clumsy, as he too found his release.

His hold on me tightened as he came, telling me under his breath that he loved me too.

With his forehead pressed to mine, he rolled us on to our sides.

"Are you okay?," He asked me after a moment of silence. I took a deep, shaky breath, before I answered.

"That was amazing."

His green eyes met mine briefly as he nodded.

"Yeah, it was."

Everything fell into place as we remained silent, holding onto one another like our lives depended on it.

I think they did, honestly.

We needed each other in a way that not many people experience.

We were soul mates.

Honest to God, fated, soul mates.

Dean's fingertips traced the scars that seemed to shine under the dim lamp light.

"You know I would never lay a hand on ya, right? Not unless you asked me for it?," He whispered.

I blushed, trying to cover my body up, but he stopped me.

"No. These scars only remind me of how beautiful ya are inside," Dean said.

"I know ya wouldn't hurt me," I whispered.

He smiled into my hair then, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead. I wanted to ask him why he was smiling, but it was obvious; we'd made it.

We made it.

Against all odds, everything we'd been through had brought us to that very moment when everything suddenly made sense.

 _I_ suddenly made sense.

The End


	11. Chapter 11

The End

 **Thanks for reading!**

 **I don't own Supernatural, but I wish I did**

Epilogue

(Dean POV)

Watching Rosie teach Castiel how to flirt was definitely one for the books. She had him thoroughly confused, a sight that always brought a smile to my face. She had her hair piled on top of her head in a loose knot and she had one of my old t-shirts hanging off of her shoulder. With a smile in Sam's direction they all laughed, and I took another sip of my coffee.

These last few months have been hectic to say the least, but the one constant I've had is _her._

Castiel released a small chuckle, that signature smile on his face as he gazed at Rosie affectionately. It warmed my heart to see her fitting in with my family so well, but then that hadn't ever been in question.

Even things with Cole had been resolved. Rosie was the most forgiving, amazing, wonderful person I'd ever encountered, and I still didn't believe that I deserved her.

"Dean?," She called excitedly.

"What's up, baby?"

She waved me over and I ambled towards her.

"Sammy told me when you were younger you used to flip your hair to attract girls," She said with a giggle. The twinkle in her eyes eased my wounded pride at her poking fun at me and I rolled my eyes.

"Would that attract _You?"_

She winked at me, something that made my dick stir like it always had.

I straddled a chair across from her and Sam wiggled his eyebrows.

"Sam, have you ever done something weird to attract a girl?," She asked.

I laughed at that outright, turning to face Sam.

"Yeah, have you?"

Sam laughed, shrugging his shoulders.

"I guess I have. I remember one time I slept with a girl who wanted me to speak to her in broken latin all night," He said with a blush.

I laughed hard, looking over at Rosie with a wink.

"This little one here likes it when I-," She squeaked, tossing a pillow at me.

"Shut your dirty, perverted, mouth!"

She was laughing though, and even though Castiel was watching all with wide, horrified eyes I could see the amusement in them.

"You're incorrigible," Castiel murmured. I shrugged.

"Least he gets it honest," Rosie said.

This right here was my perfect idea of a Friday night. Not causing trouble at the bar, not wandering home with some slutty blonde- nothing could beat this.

Having everyone I loved in the same room and knowing we were close and that there were no lies between us was the most freeing experience I'd ever felt.

"Oh...my... _God!,"_ Rosie screamed, instantly popping up onto her chair, her arms flailing wildly.

I recognized that gesture better than anyone in the room. With a slow, genuine smirk, I stood and looked to where she was pointing. Images of her in a faded AC/DC t-shirt and tight jean shorts filled my head as I glanced at the small spider she was frantically yelling about.

I thought back to the day I'd made her the promise that I'd always keep her safe, and it was reassuring to know that it was the easiest promise I'd ever made.

"I'll get it, baby."

Her gaze on me softened and she stopped screaming. Her red hair fell forward and the sunlight coming in from the window behind her framed her face enough for me to imagine what she'd look like as an angel.

"Thank you," She murmured.

Sam and Castiel glanced at each other, both remaining silent as I stepped on the little critter and turned to face them all.

"What are ya staring at?," I grumbled.

"Perhaps you should add killing arachnids to your list of 'flirting' techniques," Castiel said baldly.

Everyone in the room burst into laughter, and I shook my head in amusement.

Rosie winked at me again and I silently thanked that son of a bitch Crowley for sending her to me.


End file.
